


After The Fall

by Electra126



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/F, Minor Character Death, Original Character(s), POV First Person, Post-Chosen, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-07-24 16:32:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 96,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7515247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Electra126/pseuds/Electra126
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When things take a dramatic turn in the battle against the First, Buffy wakes to find herself in a different world where humans are slaves and Slayers are the entertainment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> _Start Date: September 2, 2005._  
>  Completion Date: July 8, 2010.  
> I wrote this story over a period of almost five years. The first handful of chapters are quite different in style but I didn't want to change them, so I apologize if the transition is jarring. We all had to start somewhere, right? :p

_"Life is to be lived, not controlled, and humanity is won by continuing to play in face of certain defeat." – Ralph Ellison_

* * *

Suffice it to say, I think that we were all a bit more than shocked when we lost the battle against the First. Seven years of fighting the good fight to lose against this entity that we couldn't even see or touch. Failure was likely inevitable, but we had no choice but to fight or die.

I know you probably have a few questions, and I probably have some explaining to do. But honestly? I don't know what happened. One minute we were kicking ubervamp uberass, and the next minute newbie slayers were getting plowed down like weeds.

The last thing I remember seeing before I got run through with my own sword was the last bit of the slayer army being backed into a corner and surrendering. Faith was beaten unconscious and left for dead atop a pile of bloodied corpses. Spike was burning up in a corner somewhere, believing until the very last minute that the amulet was going to somehow miraculously save him.

I can't really tell you the fate of anyone else because, well . . . I just don't know. It's been over a year since I've seen or heard from any of my friends and loved ones. Actually . . . sixteen months, eleven days, and eight hours if you'd like to be precise. I've tried to get info out of some of the other slayers that I've come in contact with, but the answers are always the same. No one knows anything for sure.

After the battle, it took me about four days to come out of the coma that I seemed to have been in. Yeah, blood loss . . . it does crazy things to a girl. While I was knocked out for those few days, I'm pretty sure I had some slayer-dreams. Or visions. Whatever you wanna call them, they all had the same message: Dawn was alive. My friends were alive. At least most of them were, anyhow. I'm not sure how I got the messages, but I'm pretty sure that's what pulled me out of my slumber. I knew that I still had a duty to do: I had to save them. I had to make things better.

But the world I woke up to was not the world that I remembered. Ninety-six hours and the fate of the world had been completely turned around. The bodies of humans littered the streets like debris along a highway. Houses burned, land scorched . . . the world that I had known had turned into a burnt-out shell of what it used to be.

All because I had failed at what I was meant to do.

Those humans who had survived the first wave of massacres went on to become slaves to the several ruling demon clans that existed. The First was the power source behind the whole scene, but now all of the big and nasties had stepped up to stake out their part of the spoils. Unlike many of the other survivors, I remained in what was left of California, trapped in a war between the ruling demon clans in the area. 

I belonged to a clan of vampires at first. They didn't have any human slaves . . . they just had this big horde of Slayers. It seemed really odd at first, because they weren't killing a single one of us. As far as slaves go, we were kept fairly comfortable. Apart from the odd beating or taunting, they pretty much left us in our cells and let us interact together. Not once did they try to feed from us or turn any of us. Right away, I knew that something had to be up. Vamps just don't pass on Slayer-blood when they have a live stock of it locked up beneath them.

After a few hasty escape attempts that resulted in my solitary confinement and more bruises, cuts, and broken bones than I can count, I stopped trying to run away. Even if I did . . . where would I go? There were no freedom fighters, no renegade humans that were trying to take back what was theirs. They were all dead, or slaves, or . . . I don't even know. There were others with fates worse than slaves, but that's not what's important now.

What is important was that there was no escape. If you managed to dupe your guards and get out, you faced miles and miles of harsh landscape and demons running around all willy-nilly, only to find yourself running into the arms of another less friendly demon clan.

So, I sat tight. I tried to regain my strength. I used every ounce of resolve and perseverance that I had just to NOT break down when I had to think about my family and friends. If I was ever going to stand up and fight, I need to be strong. I needed to be patient. And I needed allies.

About three weeks into my stay at the Chateau Craphouse, as I liked to call it, I finally began to work my way through the camps, assessing the girls there and determining who would be best to align with. 

Yes, they were all slayers. But . . . some of them were so young. Twelve, thirteen, fourteen years old, plucked from their everyday lives because Willow called them early. I wish she had never done that spell. That . . . is my biggest regret. They weren't ready. They had no warning. And it's our fault that they're dying now.

I was surprised to see how many of us they had thrown in the camp. Originally, I believed that there were about twenty of us, but was soon to find out that number was only in our sector of the camp.

When I walked outside our sector for the first time, I literally fell down onto my knees and just let the tears run as I gazed upon the hundreds of newly-called Slayers that filled the place. Bunks were so full that some girls had to sleep on the dirt in the middle of the open.

Bloodied clothes hung from the stone and barbed-wire walls that were sixteen feet high, serving as a sign to people on both sides of the wall; it told the demons that were roaming nearby to stay close, the fresh slayer blood on the clothing tempting them closer and closer every night. And for us, it warned that we could get over the fence, but we probably wouldn't survive what was waiting for us on the other side.

After the initial shock wore down, I stood and began to scout the camp for familiar faces and capable bodies. A thirteen year-old girl that was crying for her mother wasn't any use to me. I needed strong people. I needed fighters. I needed . . . 

"Buffy?"

I turned around upon hearing a hoarse voice call my name to come face to face with Kennedy.

Now, I know that she and I had never had a good relationship, or been close, or had even liked each other for that fact. But in that moment, we clung to what was familiar and found ourselves in a tight embrace as we chuckled and cried and laughed.

"I never thought I'd say this, but it's good to see you Kennedy." I laughed out, wiping some tears from my eyes.

"Likewise," she agreed, trying to calm herself down. "I've been walking around this place for days trying to find some familiar faces. All I keep finding is scared girls and horror stories."

We moved to sit on a large stone in the middle of the yard, hopping up on it and trying to get as comfortable as possible in the hot midday sun.

"So, no one we know then?" I asked, deflated. I was hoping that I'd find a few of the girls we had fought the First with. At least I was aware of their capabilities and personalities.

"A few here and there. Rhona is in Bunker 2 with Chao-Ahn. I saw Vi a few days back along the fence." She looked down at her hands and got real quiet then.

"Ken?" I asked quietly, trying to make her continue.

"She was wrecked, Buff. A real basket-case. She was talking about going over the wall. I . . . I didn't try to stop her. I just walked away and went back to my bunk." 

We both got quiet for a few minutes, just letting all of the new information sink in.

"Hey, it's not your job to babysit, Kennedy. We're in a rough situation here. Take care of yourself first and your friends later. You can't help them if you can't help yourself."

I know, that really doesn't sound like ‘Buffy', huh? I'm sure that if Willow or Xander was there, I wouldn't have been singing the same song. But the fact was, they weren't there. And I had to focus on keeping myself alive so that I could help them. End of story.

I was pulled from my thoughts when Kennedy spoke again.

"No, you don't get it, Buffy." She raised her shaky arm to point up at a bloody shirt hanging from the fence. "That was hers. She . . . she hopped the wall and got killed, and I didn't do a thing to stop it. I just let her die."

She looked like she wanted to cry, but the tears weren't falling. The body can only hand so much trauma and pain before it starts to shut down.

I sighed and rested my hand on her leg, trying to offer a bit of comfort.

"Kennedy, listen to me. I know you want to help people, and you don't want anyone hurt. It's the slayer in you. But you can't take responsibility for everyone here and the decisions they make. If you did, you'd find a whole lot of dead people, and a whole world of hurt just waiting for you. For the moment . . . learn to live for yourself. Keep yourself safe. Help others when you can. But do NOT take their pain and misery unto yourself, or you'll never make it outta here alive."

I knew I had a bit of the old Buffy left in me. Sergeant Buffy. Pep-talk Buffy. Positive-in-the-face-of-danger Buffy. She was still there. She just needed to be prodded a little.

Kennedy and I spent a few hours together, not really talking so much, but just observing. We watched the guards around the perimeter and at the gates. We learned their patterns. We searched through the girls to find which ones had taken on natural leadership positions. We pretended not to take notice of the guards watching us from the towers and snickering with twisted grins on their faces.

When the sun finally started to fall and the even more dangerous night began to fall upon us, we took our leave and promised to meet at the same spot the next day. 

The whole night was spent thinking not about what-if's and maybe's, but about what could be done to turn things around. I had been pessimistic up until then. I had told myself that I wouldn't try to escape anymore because there was no hope.

But something about my meeting with Kennedy gave me hope. I got to put on the leader-shoes again, and it felt like that's what I was supposed to be doing. I knew that I could lead those girls, as long as I had help. Kennedy, Rhona, Chao-Ahn . . . it wasn't a bad start. It still looked pretty hopeless, but . . . at least I knew I wasn't in it alone.

It was the first glimmer of hope that I had felt since the fall.

The next day, I met with Kennedy in the middle of the yard again. She brought Chao-Ahn and Rhona, and we all just sat in silence for awhile. We knew Chao-Ahn couldn't understand a word that we were saying, but she was happy to just be around people that she was familiar with. We tried to talk a bit about the possibilities of a plan, but it seemed that the guards were paying too much attention suddenly. They never really cared before, but we saw them leering down on us from the towers and from across the yard.

I knew something was up when I saw Nikolos, the head of our clan, make an appearance amongst the guards. When I noticed that he was paying particular attention to us and only us, I hopped up from the stone and walked across the camp, hoping that the girls would catch on and do the same.

See, I was pretty sure that if he saw us bonding, he would cry conspiracy and we'd be in for a whole world of hurt. I could take it, but I didn't want the girls getting hurt at my expense. So I abandoned our plan for a coup right then and there and decided that I'd have to do it on my own.

I wouldn't put hundreds of lives on the line again. Not after it ended up so badly the last time I tried.

* * *

It was just after sunset when we were all settling in for bed when we heard loud sirens blaring. To say that it was startling is an understatement, cos the camp was used to being pretty much left alone for the most part. The guards started running into the bunks and ushering us all out and through a large tunnel in the side of the one wall. 

They were pretty much just your average everyday demons and vamps, but . . . there was something really ferocious about them. Maybe they were just really bitter cos there was a full pool of slayer blood at their fingertips and they couldn't even take a little taste. Nikolos' orders. 

I thought maybe it was because there was a bit of humanity left in him. After all . . . rumors spread in the camps. We knew for a fact that the non-slayer camps were much more brutal and harsh. Compared to them, our time was like a walk in the park.

But as always, I was wrong. It only took time to prove that to me.

When we came out the other side of the tunnel, I noticed that we weren't underground at all. We were in the open. The wide open. As the lights flickered on around the perimeter, a familiar place was lit up in front of our own very eyes.

McAfee Coliseum. Home of the Oakland Raiders.

Dread filled me as I heard hordes of demons start to yell and shout as we walked out in our tattered and bloodied clothes, looking very much like deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming truck. 

I knew that things were about to get a whole lot worse.

I tried to be calm and help the girls that were crying and upset, but I quickly found that I was being ushered to a different area by the guards . . . right out to the middle of the arena. I threw a few elbows and punches, but it only drew their wrath. A few kicks to the ribs later, I found myself huddled in the middle of the arena with Kennedy, Chao-Ahn, Rhona, and a few other random girls from the camp. The tough ones. 

The crowd roared as Nikolos appeared on the one balcony, smiling and waving at the masses and masses of demons before him. He held up his hand and the crowd fell silent, waiting for him to speak.

A huge smirk appeared on his face, and I instantly knew I was wrong about him. There was no humanity in him. He was the cruelest one of them all.

"Welcome to the Coliseum!" He shouted and the crowd roared again, louder than just a moment before. "I have a lovely treat for you, kiddies. I know you've been waiting patiently, but we're finally ready. Let the games begin!"

The yelling and stomping was so loud that I thought the place would cave in. So loud, in fact, that I didn't even hear the clatter of the swords and daggers that fell just before our feet.

My eyes met Kennedy's just after we both noticed the pile of weapons. I couldn't have heard her even if she had tried to speak, but we both knew what was going on. Even poor Chao-Ahn knew what was going on. 

I held my arms straight at my sides and refused to look at the weapons again. Kennedy and I stood next to each other, looking at the guards with defiance. We were not going to fight them for their own pleasure. There was no way that this horde of demons would let us kill their brethren without retaliating or lashing out in some way.

A guard grabbed me and threw me to the ground, causing me to land just next to the pile of blades.

"You will fight, by order of Nikolos." He yelled.

I stood up and spit at him, the defiance clear in my actions as well as in my words.

"No."

"You will fight, by order of Nikolos. You will fight or you will die." He repeated.

Again, I shook my head.

"No, I won't fight you. I won't fight any of your friends either."

I was taken aback when the guard and those surrounding us started laughing raucously.

"Stupid cow," he commented, "you will not fight my friends; you will fight your friends."

He held out his hand and pointed towards the groups of girls in the center of the arena, their faces becoming more and more pale by the second. Realization quickly sunk in: they didn't want us to fight them; they wanted us to fight each other.

I spun around to face the guard again, suddenly feeling strong. You can take away a person's freedom, but you can't take away their choice. Or so I believed then. They couldn't make us fight it we refused.

"Are you kidding me? You expect me to fight these girls . . . my friends? NOT gonna happen."

The guard grinned evilly as he laughed plainly at me.

"You will fight, or you will die."

I swallowed hard, my jaw clenching tightly.

"And these other girls?" I asked as I indicated the few hundred other girls waiting in the wings.

"They will fight, or die."

I laughed at the tears fell from my eyes.

"This has gotta be some kind of joke. What you're essentially telling me here is . . . kill or be killed. Forget friendship. Forget sides. Forget alliances. Dismiss what we know, and kill each other so your demon hordes can get their jollies on? NO. I won't fight. Neither will they."

I kept my gaze locked on the guard who was still looking at me with a sick grin on his face.

"Maybe you should talk to your little ‘band of friends' before you go making their decisions, cupcake." And just like that, all of the surrounding guards were laughing as well.

I turned around to see what was going on, only to find that the group of girls had already grabbed their weapons and were waiting in fighting stance. Not waiting for me, but for some sign that this was real, and that they would really be fighting to defend their lives from their so-called peers.

I looked directly to Kennedy who was wielding the largest sword of them all. She looked scared, but she was ready to battle nonetheless.

"Kennedy, please don't tell me you're serious. Put down the sword."

She chuckled nervously. 

"You're the one that said it, Buff: take care of yourself first, take care of your friends later."

I chuckled bitterly, tears still falling from my eyes. 

"And from that, you got, ‘protect yourself and kill your friends?' Kennedy, what kind of insane troll logic are you using here?"

"Don't let my brand of logic stop you here, Buffy. Pick up your weapon and show me that my logic is flawed." She leaned down and got the last short-sword and tossed it over so that it lay at my feet. "Show me that there's another way to do it."

But I didn't know how. I wouldn't kill these girls, but I wouldn't let them kill me either. Not when I was still clinging on to that last ray of hope that our situation wasn't completely helpless. That I could lead them, and maybe get out of this hellhole and make some changes.

I was so wrapped up in my confrontation with Kennedy that I failed to notice the bustle of activity that had broken out around us. The few girls that had been led out to the center with us were now engaged in one-on-one battles, knowing simply that if they did not fight, the guards would kill them, and that if they did not fight, their peers would kill them.

It was survival of the fittest at its most dark and desperate level. Kill . . . or be killed.

I watched in horror and awe as the young girls fought sloppy and ruthlessly, not yet in tune with their slayer strength but knowing fully well that they had to fight or they would die anyhow. A few bodies lay around the arena now as the group got smaller and smaller, the cheering and yelling so loud that I could hardly think.

I managed to stay outside of the fray long enough, keeping the blood of these innocent girls from spilling on my hands. Kennedy had jumped into the fray, but only to make it look like she was fighting. She was putting on a show. Because in the end, she knew that it had to be her and me. She was either being really brave, or she was planning something really stupid.

And as always, stupidity won out.

As soon as Kennedy took out Rhona, the last girl standing, she turned to me with a lost look on her face.

"Their blood is on my hands, Buffy." She managed to get out. I was just barely able to hear her with my slayer hearing.

"You coming for mine now?" I asked, stepping up to her and gazing down upon her. I kept my eyes on hers as she took a step towards me, but then I surprised her. I threw my sword down and held out my arms. An invitation for her to finish her job.

It was her call now. Would she kill me?

Tears fell from her eyes like a river as she got real close to me, speaking in a tone as soft as a whisper.

"That wasn't part of my logic or my plan, Buffy." She explained sadly. I frowned at her and she continued. "Their blood isn't on your hands . . . it's on mine. I can't live with that. And that's okay, because I can't lead them either. Not like you can."

I furrowed my eyebrows at her, wondering just exactly what she was saying. 

"Kennedy, I . . ." my words we cut off as I felt her slip the handle of her sword into my hand. I looked down at my hand in shock, in complete disbelief of what she was expecting me to do.

"You told me that ‘you can't help anyone if you don't help yourself first'. Here's your chance, Buff. Lead them. Make things right. I can't be the girl to do all of that. It has to be you. Tell Willow I love her when you fix this. Now . . . just do it." 

I shook my head no, tears falling from my eyes.

"Kennedy, there has to be another way. I can't . . . I won't . . ." I tried to continue, but my voice was lost in the loud boos coming from the audience, wanting to see the last bloody killing.

I watched Kennedy as she took a step back and opened up her arms, waiting for me to strike one final blow. But I couldn't do it. I'm a slayer, not a murderer. Or at least I was. I don't even know anymore.

All I know is that I looked up at Nikolos when he ordered that I finish her off, and by the time I looked at Kennedy, she had lunged forward and impaled herself on the sword in my hands.

The crowds cheered and sirens rang out in the night, and I cried and fell to my knees as a couple hundred scared girls watched on in utter fear as I became crowned the champion Gladiator of the night. The one girl that had walked out of the arena alive. The last slayer standing.

And the one girl that they knew could kill them all, who held their very fate in her hands.

But it was all for nothing. Kennedy's sacrifice . . . it meant nothing. She spared me so that I could lead the other girls in a revolt. But in essence, she squashed any chance of that ever happening. Cos there was no way I could be friends with those girls and take them under my wing if I was going to be made to go out and kill them every night. 

I made a hard shell of my heart as I knelt in the middle of the cheering arena with Kennedy's bloodied and lifeless body at my knees. I would not lead these girls. There was nothing I could do to save them. One by one they would kill each other, and many of those lives would be at my own hands as the reigning champion.

The last glimmer of hope that I had to get out of this place and turn the fate of the world around fizzled out that day, and I became what I am today.

The gladiator. The killer. The deadliest girl in the coliseum circuit. When they put me in the ring . . . I never lost.

All of my hope was gone. Faded. But little did I know that it would only take one person to help me find a little faith . . . 


	2. Chapter Two

Have you ever stood and looked at yourself in the mirror so long that your eyes blur and you can't make out your features anymore? Your eyes -- once bright and lively – are now sad and dark, filled with all of the pain of your sins. Your skin pale and dirty, your lips dry and cracked.

You try to squint, hoping that you'll be able to see a shimmer of the girl that you once were. All you see is the devil that they created. The monster that you were forced to become.

You think for a moment that it's only a trick of the light. That if you had a proper light bulb instead of dull white candle light and burning torches, you might be able to find a hint of innocence left there.

But when you pull the candle closer and you stare more intently at the mirror, you see your features start to shift. Your teeth grow to sharp fangs, your eyes cover in black oil, making them look like obsidian pools, and your skin turns to scales, showing the true monster that resides in your hollow body.

And then you wake up, sweating and screaming from within your solitary cell, your hands running over your cheeks and lips to see if the monster remains. You're sure that you feel neither fangs nor scales, but your mind won't let it go. In a panic, you run to the small 4-inch mirror shard that a guard has smuggled in for you and put your hands to your face. You feel your skin, soft and dry. You feel your teeth, flat as ever. Your eyes, though sallow and dark, are your own.

When the tears finally spill onto your cheeks, you fall to the ground and weep. The sad truth is that you're not a monster. You're a pathetic shell of a girl who used to be a warrior of the good, who saved lives and fought for what was right.

But anyone else would tell you that, though you still are a girl on the outside, you've become a monster on the inside. The things that you have seen, the things that you have done . . . no girl would do. No warrior for the cause of good would do.

So you wipe your tears from your face and you steady your breathing . . . one breath, two breaths; long, slow exhale. You stand up and shake it off, because you can't be weak. Weak people die here, and you can't die. Not when your sister, your friends . . . are waiting for you to save them. Not when they need you to save them so that you can save the world.

_Again._

And just like that, you become a shell again. A robot. You follow your orders. You do as you're told and you don't make waves. 

Inside though, you're waiting. Always waiting, always watching for that one chance when they drop their guard, for a hole to appear in their defenses. That's when you'll strike. That's when you'll make your move. 

But they never do quite drop their guard, and their defenses never falter. They are many, and you are one. 

Sixteen months pass and not a thing has changed. You are their prisoner, and you haven't come a step closer to breaking them. To breaking out. To breaking free. 

With a sigh, you steady yourself and walk back to your cot and sit on the edge. They'll be coming for you soon; come to collect their monster to do their bidding.

You sit and wait, closing your eyes so that you don't have to look at your harsh surroundings for a moment longer than you have to.

You don't sleep, but you're well aware that you're stuck in a nightmare nonetheless.

* * *

It's been over sixteen months since the day I woke up in this hellhole. Over sixteen months since the day that they tossed me into center stage with my . . . _friends_ . . . and made me a murder. Though, in all reality, I wasn't a killer that day. Kennedy forced events.

I didn't become a killer until about a week after that. 

After the first night, the guards decided that they didn't like my little act of defiance. They knew that I was the original slayer; that I should have been the best and deadliest fighter out there. And when I didn't perform for them? Well, they got a little bit snippy.

I was sent out of the arena with a dislocated shoulder, a face I could barely recognize for the swelling and bruising, and more cracked ribs than I could even start to count.

And really, they're such great guys. They gave me a whole week to heal up and prepare myself to go back into the ring. 

I guess that my first little excursion in the arena was only a small taste of things to come. Nikolos wanted to see how things would go, how the crowd would react, how much bloodlust he could create among his minions.

And yeah, they were thirsty for slayer blood and wanted to see it spilled. Often.

Maybe it was some kind of vengeance for the demon population. For thousands of years, the slayers have been killing demons and foiling their evil deeds.

I guess now that they had the descendents of the original slayer, they were going to exact their revenge in the best way they knew how: they wouldn't kill us and tear us limb from limb; they would sic us on each other and let us take care of their dirty work. 

In essence, it was the evilest thing that they could have done to us.

Instead of letting the younger girls duke it out while I was on the mend, they decided to keep the coliseum shut down during that time. They let the anticipation build, let the word get out. 

Nikolos wanted all of the demons there that the place could fit. He wanted it to be an expo that would attract thousands.

And basically, I was the main attraction.

Sure, there were other girls. All slayers, all preternaturally strong, all inherently good.

But they weren't me. They weren't _the_ slayer. 

I was almost relieved that Faith had likely died in the big battle. There was no way that she would have sat by and took their orders. She would have fought them, and they would have done worse things to her than killing her.

In my mind, she had it easy, wherever death had led her.

Nikolos . . . he knew that I had been the slayer for seven years. He knew how many of his brethren I had wiped out. Now it was time for him to watch me kill mine.

So, I was given a week to heal and to cope. I'll admit that it was a complete mindfuck, for lack of a better word. How exactly does one come to terms with the fact that she'd be killing people for sport? That Kennedy, scared and helpless and hopeless, made the biggest sacrifice so that I could survive and lead.

Or maybe she knew that our fate was to die, and she just wanted it to end fast so that she didn't have to go through prolonged suffering. 

Maybe she wanted me to live, and suffer.

I couldn't come to terms with it. I cried, and I struggled with myself, and I said that I couldn't do it. That I'd let them kill me before I'd take a life. I couldn't go out there day after day, night after night, and murder these girls for the sake of myself. 

I knew that it was the ‘big night' when I heard the demons begin to filter into the coliseum around dusk. Many had been there all day long, the hazy sunlight not an issue for them. Once the sun went down, the vamps came out to play and Nikolos was ready to kick off the events.

It was such a sick feeling . . . my skin crawling, my slayer senses tingling . . . the slayer in me wanted to dance, but I had to rein her in. I knew that the first time I'd raise my hand to a guard or any demon there, I'd be taken out. And as stupid as it sounds, I had to let Nikolos know that I wasn't willing to fight before he killed me. It had to be on my terms. 

My situation may have changed, but I was still the same old Buffy then. Things were always on my terms. 

The guards gave me some ridiculous armor to change into, but it could barely be called armor at all. It basically looked like a metal bikini of some kind. Try to wear it at the beach though and you'd sink like a fashion-challenged stone.

I tried to hand it back to the guard; I told him that I was fine fighting in my tattered jeans and top that looked like rags hanging on my body, covered in dirt and blood, but he insisted that I change.

By order of Nikolos.

And then he insisted that he stay in my holding cell while I changed.

Not only did they want me to fight the other slayers, but now they were going to stand around while I changed?

I was angry, and sad, and confused, but mostly . . . I was humiliated.

There weren't many people in my life who had made me feel powerless, and who held it over my head and watched with a smirk as I clung to what was left of my dignity.

After a very embarrassing struggle with my clothing and the armor, I was finally dressed as they wanted me. I looked like one of those gladiators that you see in the movies. Picture Russell Crowe in that movie . . . you know the one I'm talking about. Now make him a girl and give him armor that barely covers his body . . . and bam, you have me.

I don't know how they could even call it armor; I was more exposed than I was covered. Maybe some young slayer would get lucky and catch me off-guard. There was no way I would survive a wound to my mid-section, especially if I was supposed to use my slayer healing as my only means of first aid.

The only bit of it that made sense was my wrist guards. The metal clung tightly to my forearms, ensuring that I wouldn't lose my hands in battle. Cos, as amusing as it may appear, I'm sure that a one-handed slayer wouldn't provide much entertainment if she couldn't hold up the heavy weapons with only one hand.

I'm pretty sure that they didn't want me to die though. They wanted me to stick around so that I could entertain them for endless days. And they wanted me to feel the pain of my actions each and every day. They wanted me to hate them; hell, they just wanted me to hate. Because as long as I had an emotion as strong as hate strong in me, I would fight. 

Then they would never be bored.

The guard ushered me out of my cell and up the long corridor that led to the coliseum. Once out in the arena, I could see just how many demons were there. It was appalling. But even more appalling was the fighting that was already going on.

The bodies of several young slayers lay strewn about the arena. A few of them lay crying as they died slowly, their attacker not having the heart to completely finish the job.

Along the sides of the arena, slayers sat tied to a long bench which was anchored in the ground. They were forced to sit there and watch as they awaited their turn.

My stomach lurched as I looked upon it all. Before I could even walk the last few steps out of the corridor and into the arena, I crouched against the wall and wretched again and again, pouring out the remaining contents of my nearly empty stomach. I hadn't eaten much that morning, so it was mostly stomach acid that burned my tongue and lips as it passed. My eyes watered, and I wasn't sure if it was from the pain or if I was crying.

I was really only sure of one thing at that point: I wanted to die. I wanted it to be over; I didn't want the blood of those innocent girls on my hands. I felt completely and utterly hopeless and I was ready to just give in. To give up.

But I didn't have time for self-pity. I was being yanked out by my hair before I could even get to my feet.

I looked up towards one of the balconies as I stumbled along with the guard, the same balcony that Nikolos had stood on the last time. As I thought, he was sat there surrounded by a gang of vampires, all of them hooting and hollering as two slayers fought in the middle of the arena.

When Nikolos spotted me, he stood up and walked to the edge, smirking the whole time. He said something to one of his guards, who punched some buttons on a console in front of him. A moment later, Nikolos's image appeared on the giant screen under the scoreboard, pulling the attention of everyone in the arena from the fight to the screen.

Immediately, the crowd roared, cheering him on.

The two slayers in the ring were pulled back to the bench, pure terror etched on their faces. Sure, they were spared for now. But for how long? How long did they have to cherish what was left of their lives? Unsure what to do and who to turn to, the two girls clung to one another, forgetting for a moment that they had just been trying to kill each other.

"Tonight is a special night," Nikolos began, pausing to let the crowd cheer at his words. "Tonight," he continued, "we get to see some real entertainment. Last week was just a paltry taste of what's to come. We've found the best of the best. The cream of the crop. And tonight, we will see her in action."

The crowd cheered again and I couldn't help but tremble. He was talking about me. I was the big reason that the coliseum was completely packed.

Nikolos held up his hands to silence the crowd and he waited until you could hear a pin drop.

"Slayer!" he called, looking down to me. "Are you ready to show us a good time?"

The crowd cheered yet again.

I kept eye contact with him and gritted my teeth, seething with so much hatred for him. When the crowd began to quiet again, I turned my head and spat before I met his gaze yet again.

"Do whatever you want to me . . . I'm not fighting. This place, this outfit," I said and paused to indicate my meager armor, "it's a joke. You're going to kill us anyway, so just get it over with. I'm _not_ playing your games so you can get your rocks off."

The crowd began to boo and laugh, taunting me from all angles. Nikolos just stood and chuckled.

"I think she needs some motivation," he said with a smirk, his eyes never leaving mine. He nodded his head and his guard began to press the buttons on the console again. 

I saw something flicker from the corner of my eye . . . the large screen . . . but I continued to glare daggers at Nikolos.

"Buffy . . ."

Oh god, I thought. Please, no. I remember feeling my heart sink in my chest. I didn't want to believe it could be who I thought it was.

But when I turned my head toward the screen, I fell to my knees as I realized that the voice belonged to whom I thought.

Dawn.

"Buffy, please . . . you have to get me out of here," she pleaded. She was on some type of live feed television.

My eyes watered as I looked at her. She was amazingly unhurt, untouched, but I could see how scared she looked. How much she needed me. There were guards standing behind her, not touching her, but smirking and chuckling as she talked. They had been holding onto someone . . . I strained my eyes to see whom. When I saw a flash of red hair from under the one guard's large meaty hand, I realized who it was.

"Dawn! Willow!" I cried out, wanting nothing more than to jump through the screen and save them. Dawn looked fine, but Willow was . . . she was a mess. I could see bruises in different stages of healing all over her face and arms. There was dried blood on her shirt, though I couldn't tell where it had come from. 

A few months later I found out where it had come from, but I'll get into that at another time.

I couldn't help but panic. If something happened to Willow, what would happen to Dawn? Who would look after her?

I stood and turned to Nikolos, anger etched across my face. I'd found my strength again.

"Let them go," I said, my jaw clenched.

Nikolos laughed, causing the entire crowd to laugh along with him.

"Interesting request, but I think I'll pass," he said with amused look. "But," he continued as he stepped forward and grasped onto the handrail, "I'll let them live. _Maybe._ Would you like to see them live?"

I'm not stupid; I knew what he wanted. What he was holding out for. He would let them live if I followed his orders; if I fought. But if I refused . . . I couldn't even think about what would happen if I refused.

I took a deep breath and glanced back at the screen. Dawn was still stood there, a look of panic on her face.

I had to save her. I had to save Willow. We had to regroup. I kept thinking that if I could only get to Dawn and Willow and Giles and Xander and Anya, we might stand a chance. We could come up with something brilliant to change the outcome of this . . . hell. We had done it before, and it seemed to me to be the only option at the time.

God knows it killed me inside, but after taking one last glance at the screen, I dropped my head and closed my eyes. I tried to find my strength. My will to survive. 

And I nodded my head.

Nikolos laughed and the crowd cheered, stomping their feet in anticipation of what was to come. 

"Let the real games begin," Nikolos said loudly, his voice echoing over the crowd.

I kept my eyes closed as I heard footsteps and scampering around me. I tried so hard not to lose it. Over and over I told myself that it was for the greater good. That I could save the world if I could only get out of there. 

And if getting out of there meant waiting for an opening while I had to commit certain . . . acts . . . I thought I could justify it in my mind.

It was only a few moments before I heard the clanging of falling weapons before me. I opened my eyes and looked over them, my stomach churning when I noticed that several of them were already bloodied.

There were weapons there that were designed to inflict pain, some to maim . . . and some that were meant only to kill.

I remember reaching into the pile, my hand trembling as I tried to avoid getting blood on my hands.

Blood never washes off, you see. The blood itself does, but not the memory of it. Never the memory of it.

There was a longsword in the mix, sharp and unused, and I pulled it slowly from the pile. The sound that the metal made as it scraped against the other metal weapons made my head hurt, sounding very much like it was piercing my very soul.

When I looked up, I noticed that the guards had brought five new girls out into the arena and untied them. As soon as they noticed that I had chosen my weapon, all five girls made a mad dash for the pile, trying to find the best of what was left. I stood completely still and didn't move as they passed me, unafraid that they would hurt me.

They couldn't hurt me.

I was the best. Giles had trained me that way. I was fluent in the art of physical combat, and after seeing Dawn and Willow . . . I had something to live for. I had a plan.

There was no way that I would die willingly at that point.

When one of the girls lunged at me, I easily stepped out of the way. The other four girls looked on in terror as the girl swung at me over and over again, missing me every time as I easily stepped backward to avoid her lunges. I didn't raise my sword once. I didn't need the shield that a guard had tossed my way. I easily stepped over it as the girl continued to unleash her fury upon me.

I wasn't angry at her; she was trying to survive. Maybe she thought she'd have an easier time with the other girls if she took me out first. 

After sidestepping her advances over and over again, I finally felt myself nearing the edge of the arena. I could hear the snarling of the demons as they got closer and closer to me. At that point, I was more afraid that they could hurt me while my back was turned toward them than of the girl who was swinging a mace wildly about, trying harder than ever now to hit me with it.

The only time that I raised my sword was when I felt my back hit the wall. By then, the girl was so tired from swinging the heavy mace about that she didn't even notice my sword.

I won't tell you exactly what happened . . . I can't, because I've blocked it out of my mind . . . but I can tell you that she died quickly, easily, and in as painless a way as I could manage.

There are pretty much two areas on the body where damage will cause almost imminent, immediate death: head and heart. That's where I always went for.

I was later told that my whole life I'd gone for the heart and the head, but again, I'll have to tell you more about that at another time.

As the young girl's lifeless body slid from my sword and onto the ground, the crowd cheered louder than I could have imagined. I didn't know her name

I didn't know any of their names.

But it was done. I was a killer. Still, I was trying to convince myself that it was for the greater good at that point.

They made me into a monster. Just like they were.

I stood and watched with vacant eyes as two demons came shuffling out of a side door and moved the body onto a sheet, then scurried away with it back through the same door. I couldn't even let myself think about what was going to happen to her body.

As it was, there were four more girls who stood in the center of the arena. They watched the whole display with wide eyes, fear evident on their faces. When I started to slowly walk toward the center again, one of the girls panicked and ran toward the side of the arena. She jumped up over the side, hastily trying to escape.

But she had jumped right into the arms of a blood hungry crowd.

I blocked out the sounds of her screaming as I approached the center, my body doing what it needed as my mind drifted off to a different place.

To this day, I'm still not sure what happened. I remember blood, and I remember tears. The blood belonged to the girls, but the tears were my own.

When I finished what I had to do, my mind came back from whatever happy place I had sent it to. I looked around the arena and into the crowd, watching with disgust as they cheered and cheered.

Like before, Nikolos stepped to the edge of the balcony.

"I've spoken with Khayet, who tells me that his clan will be joining us in the months to come," he spoke to the crowd. "I expect that we'll be in for some real treats, kiddies. _Do_ remember to join us again."

I soon found out that Khayet was the head of another clan, filled mostly with warmongering demons. They'd have more slayers, I was sure. More people to kill. 

More sin to commit.

As the crowd began to filter out of the arena, I was led back to my cell by the same guard as earlier. He seemed less aggressive then. His grip was less firm, his words were less harsh.

When he let me into my cell and told me he needed to collect my armor, he left me to undress while he disappeared into the corridor somewhere.

I slowly peeled the bloodstained armor from my body, noting that it felt ten times heavier with the weight of my crimes on it. A moment or two later the guard – Dervin – returned with a large bowl full of water and a clean rag. He didn't say anything to me; he simply took the armor from the dirt-covered floor and left, locking the door behind him.

For several minutes I sat in the pale candle light, naked except for my underwear. I watched as the blood on my skin and the tears on my face dried in place.

From that point, I told myself that I wouldn't cry anymore. Not for something that I was forced to do; not for something that might save us all in the end.

I remember placing the bowl of water on a little stool and squatting in front of it, using the rag to wipe the dried blood from my skin. The water quickly turned bright red and I couldn't bring myself to use it to wash my face.

Before I climbed onto my cot, I walked to the wall and looked into the small shard of mirror that Dervin had given me days before. 

I looked like me. There were tear stains on my face, but I still looked like the same girl. Same old Buffy. 

Nevertheless, I wasn't the same girl. I had done something that I found unforgivable when done by someone else at a previous time. I wondered if I'd ever forgive myself, the way that I thought I'd forgiven her.

But then I realized that forgiveness wasn't something that could be given by the guilty.


	3. Chapter Three

Things have been pretty routine since that first week of scheduled fighting:

I sleep. I eat. I kill. 

Wash, rinse, repeat.

Once the big arena event passed by, I was pretty sure that our days were numbered. Sure, there were a couple hundred girls in the camp. But I figured that at three to five girls a night, I'd be stood there alone after a couple of weeks.

And on that note, I guess I was pretty grateful when I found out that the big arena events only happened on the weekends.

It's funny, you know? The world, as far as I knew then, had been taken over by demons. And despite the fact that there were no banks, no shopping malls, no post office and no jobs in general, they still saved the big events for the weekends.

Like they had so much to do during the week. Does evil really take a weekend break? Or does evil save it all up for the weekend?

In either case, Friday nights have always been the big teaser event. A few young slayers, a few big weapons . . . just enough to get the demons riled up. Saturday was always reserved for the big event. The day when they would pit the original slayer against a mob of scared and desperate girls, or when they would pit me against an up-and-coming girl who had promise as a true fighter.

That was ridiculous, of course. They knew that no matter how good of a fighter any of those girls became, she'd still be no match for me. Not only was I more experienced, but I had something to live for too. 

Dawn.

Every Saturday I was brought out of the tunnels and paraded around the arena. Demons would cheer and snarl and shout, like I was one of them. I was the reason they kept coming back: no one could promise a kill like I could. 

And every Saturday, just as I was telling myself it was time for me to stand up and refuse to fight, that I was tired and wanted it all to end . . . they'd show Dawn on the big screen. She'd plead for me to help her, and I'd go to that place in my mind where I didn't think about what I was doing. Where my actions became automatic, and the only thing on my mind was getting to Dawn, saving her and whomever was left standing, and fixing everything.

I don't know how much I believed I could actually do that, but it was a good distraction from what I was physically doing, anyhow.

The truth was, though, that after several months of fighting, the inevitable began to happen: they started running out of girls. New clans came and went like always, and each time they visited, they had fewer and fewer girls in their camps.

I knew that the era of the slayer was coming to an end.

I had to make my move. I couldn't just sit back and wait for an opportunity any longer. If they were going to fight us until there were none left, I had to act.

It was late one night when I put my plan into motion. Actually, there was no plan. I was going over the wall, consequences be damned. The scavenger demons that used to linger just outside the perimeter of the fence had long since moved on; girls were no longer brave enough to try to make a run for it.

They knew their fate was to die in the ring. Sixteen months of the same thing over and over convinced them of that fact.

The only thing that I was sure of was that I couldn't share that fate with them. No matter how much they had changed me into someone no one else would recognize . . . I was still Buffy. The slayer. And I wouldn't let the slayer line end just like that.

Like clockwork, my guard Dervin came to check in on me midway through the night. Over the months, I think we became accustomed to one another. He was less brutal to me than other guards were. He tried to take care of me, in a messed up sort of way. And I didn't give him a hard time. Like I said before. . . I acted complacent while I plotted and planned and waited for my opening. 

The torch that burned in the corner of my chamber kept the room just barely illuminated; it was dim enough that he couldn't see my determined face as I pretended to sleep.

When I heard him shuffling up to the bars, I started to put on the performance of a lifetime. I began thrashing around on my cot like I was trapped in a nightmare like none other.

Sure, nightmares were a normal occurrence. 

In fact, they were so normal that Dervin took sympathy on me and would often open my chamber door and wake me. Guess he thought that he was doing me some kind of favor by waking me up.

Sure. Nothing quite like waking up from one nightmare to find yourself trapped in another.

I knew that part of me should feel bad about what I was going to do. Any of the other guards would have stood and laughed as I lay there whimpering. But not Dervin. He cared, for some odd reason.

As he neared the cot, I gripped the small shard of mirror that normally hung on the wall in my hand, not even flinching as it cut into my weathered skin. 

"Wake, slayer," he said in a gruff but quiet tone, careful not to draw the attention of the other guards. "You dream again."

When I felt his hand on my shoulder, I let the slayer take over. My eyes opened and I grabbed onto his shoulder quicker than he could process the events. I moved so quickly, in fact, that he didn't even feel the mirror shard pierce his throat until he saw the blood pouring down the front of his chest.

He stumbled backwards and crashed against the wall before slowly sliding down it into a seated position. I leapt up from the cot and took my fighting stance, waiting for some type of reprisal. 

There was always some type of reprisal.

But Dervin just sat there and looked up at me with shocked eyes, one hand holding tight over his throat in an attempt to stop the blood flow.

There was no stopping it, though. I sliced right through his jugular vein. He had seconds left, maybe a minute if he was lucky.

He gurgled, straining as he tried to speak. I shook my head, scared that the other guards would come running at his warning. And then I froze. I looked down and noticed that his other hand was rested on his hip, gripping tight to an aerosol bullhorn that was attached to his belt.

I didn't notice that before because . . . why? It didn't matter at that point. He was going to use the bullhorn to alert the guards to the situation. My luck was over.

"I . . . I . . ." Dervin sputtered, blood pouring out of his mouth now, "I thought you would . . . n-never do it."

I didn't understand. He didn't think I would kill him? I just stood there, looking both panicked and puzzled, waiting for the cavalry to come a-runnin'.

But then he surprised me. He reached behind the bullhorn and grabbed a small iron ring that was latched onto his belt.

It had keys on it.

"Go," he sputtered, using the last of his strength to hold the keyring up to me. "Quickly. Don't . . . look . . . back."

He gasped a few times and shook violently before he was eventually still, his hand falling away from his throat to let the blood seep slowly down his chest.

I looked down at the keyring that lay in his lap. I'm not sure what came over me, but it was almost like I couldn't move for a moment. I was paralyzed by something, either fear or happiness, but I didn't have time to think about it then. I had to get out of there, and fast.

Taking one last look down at Dervin, I grabbed the keyring and made my way to the door, peeking cautiously around the corner to make sure the coast was clear. I could hear some vamps and demons chuckling in one of the rooms down the corridor, but the corridor itself was clear.

I took a deep breath before stepping out of my chamber alone for the first time in nearly sixteen months. Alone. A blessing yet a curse all at the same time.

Slowly and cautiously, I made my way down the corridor, ducking and stepping past doorways as I went. Just as I was about to pass one room, I glanced inside and realized what it was: the weapons room.

As much as I knew I had to get out of there as quickly as possible, I also knew it would be better for me to have something to protect myself with. 

Making sure first that the room was empty, I stepped inside and closed the door part way, leaving only a sliver of light from the torch outside the door to illuminate the room. I felt around in the near darkness, looking for my weapon of choice. My long sword. After a moment or two of fumbling, I felt the cool metal of the blade set upon a table, set aside just for me. The blade itself was gritty and sticky, surely not cleaned since the last time it was used. 

Not cleaned since the first time it was used.

Never cleaned.

I flinched when I realized how many lives it had taken, how much blood it had spilled. But I would make up for it. I'd make up for it all.

On the chair next to the table was a piece of my armor – the left shoulder and arm guard. I slipped it on carefully, making sure not to let the metal clang together. With my sword in my hand and as much protection as I could find in the shoulder guard, I made my way towards the door, ready to make my escape.

Just as I moved to open the door and slip out, I heard voices in the corridor. I moved back into the darkness of the room just as two guards made their way down the corridor, laughing raucously at their own jokes.

‘Why did the slayer cross the street? To be eaten by the Nargok demon!'

I stayed hidden in the darkness of the room until I heard their voices fade into nothing. Only when I was sure that my slayer hearing was attuned and there was no one in the corridor did I make my way out of the room.

The corridor seemed to go on for ages, but I just kept sneaking along until I came upon one of the courtyards of the general population. Using the keys that Dervin gave me with his dying breaths, I opened the door that was acting as the only barrier between myself and the courtyard.

I could tell that there were guards up on the second level, but they were too wrapped up in their own conversation to see me creeping along the darkened south wall. Being careful not to step into any light, I crept along the wall until I came upon the tall barbed fence. There were still articles of clothing tied around it in some places, but they were all tattered from the weather now.

Still, they served as perfect places for me to grab onto the wires without getting my hands cut up.

My hands.

I looked down at them to find that they were covered in dried blood. Mine and Dervin's.

For a second, I almost felt bad, but . . . I cut off the feelings. The only thing feelings were going to do was get me killed. And I had to be strong. I had to be the slayer.

With as much stealth as possible, I began to climb up the barbed fence, grabbing onto pieces of clothing when able and just gritting my teeth and bearing the pain when there was nothing but sharp barbs to cling to. They ripped my skin again and again, but I felt no pain. Only determination. 

Once I reached the top of the fence, I paused and looked over my shoulder at the darkened camp behind me. 

I repeated my mantra over and over again. ‘I'll make up for it. I'll make up for it. I'll make up for it.' 

One last look and I leapt into the darkness, grimacing slightly as my feet landed hard on the ground on the other side. My first taste of freedom and it was painful. The heavy shoulder guard and sword added to my weight, but it was the guilt that weighed on me the most.

Of leaving everyone behind. Of never being behind them in the first place. Of not doing something sooner.

Of not winning the fight in the first place.

But I remembered what I was fighting for, who I was fighting for, and I found my strength again. Sword in hand, I ran. Into the darkness. Into the unknown. Into a future that I wasn't sure held a place for me. But I ran.

I must have gotten about three miles before I started to feel something coming over me. Something . . . not quite right. Something powerful. Something magical. 

Before I could stop and try to get my bearings straight, a blinding white light struck me like a bolt of lightning. It didn't go though me; it coursed again and again throughout me before tossing me to the ground. 

I lay there shaking, in pain, and scared. Before long, another white light came shooting toward me, hitting me straight between the eyes.

And then I slept. For how long, who knows.

But it was the first time I didn't have nightmares in as long as I could remember.

* * *

I'm not sure how long I was out for. Maybe a few minutes or so. But when I came to, I wasn't laying on the ground where I had fallen.

I was being carried.

And not like a princess, either. I was tossed over someone's shoulder, the blood rushing to my already swimming head as I dangled limply. As weak and confused as I was feeling, I still had some fight left in me.

With as much strength as I could muster, I twisted my body, trying to jolt myself free. But whoever was carrying me obviously had other plans.

"Stop your wriggling," came a gruff voice as two strong arms gripped tighter around my legs to keep me from squirming.

As if that would stop me. Instead, it spurned me on. I used everything I had then, wriggling and squirming as much as I could. It actually worked; after a few moments, I felt my body hit the hard ground as I was finally dropped.

I rolled to my stomach and got to my knees, ready to make my escape, even though I was still disoriented and pretty woozy from whatever had happened to me before.

But before I could even get a few feet away, I felt a heavy, cloven foot make contact with my stomach, sending me spiraling through the air and into a stone wall.

I lay there gasping, my arms instantly clutching around my stomach to shield it from any further blows.

I heard another voice, just as gruff as the first, but much more annoyed sounding.

"Show her what happens to slaves who escape," he said and snorted, chuckling as the rest of the group – five or six of them – surrounded me.

And then I realized my fatal mistake. I was still clutching my stomach.

Before I could even think about moving my arms, a foot kicked me hard in the face.

The last thing I remember before passing out was smiling as I nearly choked on my own blood, relieved that it was all finally coming to an end.

* * *

Of course, things never end quite that easily. 

I wake slowly to the sounds of new noises . . . noises that I haven't heard in ages.

There are people talking.

The sun burns my eyes as I open them for the first time, in . . . well, I'm not sure how long. Still, it doesn't take long for me to realize I'm not back in my cell. In fact, I'm pretty sure I'm not at the same place I was at before.

I use my arm as a shield from the sun and look around, noting that I'm in some type of large outdoor camp. There are girls wandering about, and from the tingles that I'm getting, I'm guessing that they're slayers as well.

They don't look like scared little girls. Not like the ones that I . . . encountered. I watch as they walk around confidently, talking to one another like it's a regular social hour.

I take my time looking around, feeling out the situation. Large camp, about seventy or eighty girls in sight. Cinderblock shortwall with high barbed fences. Six guard posts, four of them with two in each post, and two unmanned. Demons, not vamps. No demons in the immediate vicinity . . . sterile bandages and cots all around me. I'm thinking I'm in an infirmary of some sort, which doesn't make sense at all because there's no brutish demon around serving as a doctor, pouring alcohol into open wounds and stitching them up with a dull needle.

Cautiously, I slip my free hand off of the cot and try to feel how close I am to the floor. If I'm close enough, I can roll under the cot and make a plan. After a moment or two of feeling around, I feel something cold and warm hit my hand. Is that . . . a tongue??

I snatch my hand back and sit up quickly. Of course, that isn't the smartest of moves, seeing as that I took quite the beating last time I was conscious. A loud groan escapes me as my arm clutches around my midsection. Several shallow breaths later, I'm counting my broken ribs with my fingertips. Four, five, six . . .

And then I remember the tongue. I immediately look down at the spot I had just touched on the ground, only to find a small gray dog sat there looking up at me, his messy hair almost completely covering his eyes.

He pants a few times and lets out a small bark, causing several of the girls to look in our direction.

"Quiet, Toto," I say, my voice unfamiliar to my own ears. I flinch, not having realized that the simple sound of my own voice could cause me pain. After a moment, I look up from the furry dog and see a girl coming my way, adorned in a white jacket with deep pockets and a stethoscope around her neck.

"Oh yeah," I say under my breath, "we're definitely not in Kansas anymore."

She walks casually up to my cot and looks down at the dog, smiling as she addresses it.

"Quiet, Saucey. This one doesn't need you harassing her. Go find your momma," she said and smiled as the little dog scooted off excitedly.

Okay, exactly what kind of twilight zone did I wake up in? I know I'm in a camp. I know there are demons here. But puppies and doctors? Oh yeah, I defo got clunked pretty good on my coconut.

Finally she turns her attention to me and her smile softens as she sits on the cot next to me, pulling it forward so that she's closer.

"I thought you were a goner," she says as she takes my wrist and checks my pulse.

"Well," I begin, my voice scratchy and hoarse, "if it makes you feel better, I feel like I'm dead."

She chuckles at me but gets quiet again after a moment so that she can pay attention to what she's doing. After a warm breath on her stethoscope, she places it on my back and listens.

A moment later, she continues, "You can breathe now."

When I realize I'm holding my breath, I exhale loudly. She laughs, but I can't really find the situation funny. It's awkward and uncomfortable. I haven't had an actual conversation in longer than I can remember, and I have no idea where I am or what I'm doing here.

Even more . . . I don't know what this place is. Am I free, or am I still in hell?

"I'm willing to bet you have some questions," she says, and I nod slowly in response. "Right. Well, up until about a year and a half ago, I was a Med student. Then one day, I'm at the hospital, suturing a little girl who fell off her bike and split her chin open, when I pass out cold . . . BAM, just like that. I come to and . . . I'm different. I'm . . . strong, and alert, and very aware that I'm part of something . . . bigger."

"You're a slayer," I say rather than ask. 

"Got it in one," she says, smiling. She continues to check over me as she fills me in on things. "So, I'm standing there strong, feeling on top of the world, ready to take it all on . . . and then the TV reports start coming in. Gangs of – things – walking around and causing chaos. One large gang turns into two, two turns into ten, and ten turns into . . . well, you know how bad it gets."

I nod, feeling relieved yet a bit scared at learning how things had all went down. 

It was all my fault. How could it not be? I failed . . . 

"After about a day or so, the TV cameras went off," she continues. "And then the whole world seemed to shut down. The United States was up and in ruins . . . demons running through the streets, killing people and burning things down. When they finally found our hiding spot in the hospital, I fought. It was the most natural thing I ever did. But there were too many. I'm not sure what happened to the others – I think you and I both can assume what happened – but I was beaten and brought here. And I've been here since."

I look around, still curious to exactly where I was.

"And what exactly is ‘here'?" I ask. 

She tries to smile, but I can see the pain that she's hiding. After all this, she's still trying to be strong.

"This . . ." she begins, but she stops for a few moments as she looks around and tries to find the right words. ". . . this is hell, I think."

I look around and can't help but scoff at that.

"This is like a five-star resort compared to where I was," I say bitterly. "You want hell? I can tell you about hell."

She sits back on the cot and shakes her head no, putting her stethoscope easily back around her neck.

"I've already heard the tales," she says. I raise an eyebrow at her, wondering exactly how she knows anything about it, and she quickly continues, "You're not the only one who was transferred here. After all of the new slayers were called, they started shipping girls around in a frenzy, trying to make room for them all. We got several girls from the camp you were in, along with . . ."

"Whoa, wait . . . what?" I interrupt after I realize what she had just said. "New slayers? What do you mean ‘new slayers'?"

She smiles sadly at me and tilts her head to the side a little.

"What's your name?" she asks me, and for a moment, I'm not sure that I can say it. That I can bring myself to say that name of the person I had disassociated myself with as much as possible.

"B-Buffy," I answer quietly.

"Okay, Buffy," she begins, scooting closer to me, "close your eyes; tell me what you feel."

I look at her questioningly for a moment, but decide to trust her for some odd reason. Try as hard as I may, I still can't feel a thing two minutes later.

"Focus, Buffy," she says. "Listen to the slayer. What is she telling you?"

After a moment, I open my eyes and look at her, frustrated.

"She's decided that hell pretty much sucks and is on vacation in Tahiti. Mind telling me what I'm supposed to be feeling here . . . .?" I say, waiting for her to fill in the blanks.

"Diane," she says, "but you can call me D. It's a nickname I've earned here, being the Doctor and all. And what you're supposed to be feeling . . . is the buzz of hundreds of new slayers that have been called. It just happened a few days ago. We don't know how, but . . . more were called, and they're being found and sent into the camps one by one."

"They have the scythe," I say quietly before looking up at her. "They're using magicks, really powerful magicks. That's how we called the slayers before, when we . . ." lost, I try to say, but it doesn't come out. As beaten down as I've been, I still can't admit defeat aloud. It hurts too much.

"It doesn't matter now," Diane says and stands up, dipping her hands into her pockets. "These girls have been called, and they're here to stay. Only thing we can do now is help them. Show them what it means to be part of the slayer family."

Immediately, I avert my eyes and stare at the ground. Slayer family. Yeah right. Does she know that I pretty much decimated my family with a big longsword? I'm afraid that if I look up at her, she'll know.

"Buffy," she says softly, trying to get my attention. "I know what happened in your last camp. And no one can blame you . . . you did what you thought you had to do."

I take a chance and look up at her to see if she's looking at me with disgust, but all I see is compassion and concern. She smiles softly at me and continues.

"But that's not how we do things here. And as much as you're used to being on your own, that's really not going to work. Not here."

I frown and stand up, feeling a bit cornered in now.

"I can take care of myself," I say and try to walk away, but I don't know where I'm going to and I'm still not strong enough to walk on my own. The guards must have broken my right ankle too when they found me that night. Stupid mystical white lights giving away my location.

"I'm sure you can," Diane says as she hurries over and grabs my right arm, keeping me upright. "But things aren't run here the way they were where you used to be. Come on . . . take a walk with me."

Slowly but surely, we walk around the camp as she shows me the ins and outs of the place, as much as she can in the restricted areas.

She explains that yes, slayers are often pitted against slayers, but that it's generally more of a free-for-all here. Vamps, demons, beasts – a veritable cornucopia of bad guys – all hop in the ring with the slayers. Giving the slayers a common enemy, besides one another, had forged a strong bond between them. They were family. They protected one another.

And when one of them would die, they would mourn and remember.

Just the thought of it all was almost too much for me to handle. I was supposed to form bonds with these girls, only to have to kill them later? Or to watch as they helplessly die at the hands of some random demon that wouldn't have stood a chance with us before?

Though I was deep in thought, I still managed to listen to Diane as she explained the different areas of the camp, along with several rules that had been established. The demon clan that ran the place didn't interfere with the slayers much. They provided food and basic materials. They let the slayers take care of one another after fights. Hell, they even provided some very rudimentary medical supplies.

Yeah, this place was definitely feeling like the Ramada Inn.

But then she takes me to the inner workings of the place: the arena. The last leg of the tour. 

It' s a bit bigger than the arena I had previously been in. There's more seats, and the arena itself has been doctored to hold all sorts of special items . . . columns, cages, fire pits . . . the works.

The pain from my broken ribs and my banged up ankle is almost too much to bear now, but I want to see it all. I need to know where I am and what I'm up against so that I can start making another plan.

Slowly, we walk into the arena where a few girls are working out and practicing. There are a few girls taking lessons from an older girl on combat technique and evasive maneuvers. There are a few girls in another area, doing push-ups and sit-ups and general working out.

And then there's one girl sat across the arena, stretching and doing some martial arts stances. I watch her as she works out with ease, Diane talking to me the whole time in the background.

I know I should be paying attention . . . my life could depend on something that she's saying. But I just can't seem to focus on anything but that one girl.

After only a few moments, when the girl starts walking across the arena in our general direction, do I start to feel the tingles. Not a vamp, and not a demon, but something different. Something familiar.

I start to feel faint as the familiar feeling washes over me, causing me to feel more than I have in over a year.

My eyes widen when I finally realize the source of the tingles. The girl stops moving mid-step as she finally looks over and notices me and Diane.

That smirk. Oh god, no.

"B?"

And then there's darkness as my legs give out from beneath me and I fall hard to the ground yet again.


	4. Chapter Four

I don't remember my dreams most nights, and when I do, they're usually of the bad variety. Monsters, demons, vampires . . . the works.

This one is different, though. Hospital machines beep and whirr around but I can't open my eyes to see them. I hear my friends. They're talking about me like I'm not here, but I can hear every word they say, every breath they take. I try to move, try to lift my arms, move my fingers; anything to let them know that I'm here, that I know they're here too. But one by one they leave the room, leaving me panicking at the thought of being left here like this forever.

This is what Faith must've felt. Must've lived every day when she was in her coma. People coming, people going, but no one able to help her.

Just when I think I'm totally alone, I hear someone approaching the bed. I feel warm breath on my ear before I hear a soft whisper, _"Wake up, B,"_ and then soft lips press against my forehead.

Before I can properly analyze it all, I'm roused from the dream by the sound of someone rustling around nearby. 

I open my eyes and find that I'm not back in the infirmary where I was earlier, but somewhere much darker. It looks a lot like my own cell in here with just a few small differences.

Oh, who am I kidding? This place is the Ritz Carlton compared to my old cell. A sink with running water – I can hear the steady drip from the leaky faucet – a toilet, a mirror on the wall, a bench and a chair.

And clearing her throat to make her presence known is a very much alive and ever-annoying Faith resting with her back against the wall, arms folded across her chest.

You know, you'd think that after seeing and doing the things that I have for the last almost year and a half now that I'd develop some kind of an immunity to being shocked, but no. One glimpse of Faith walking towards me in the stadium and I'm passing out like a debutante in a heat wave.

I'm sure I'll be getting flack for that in the near future.

"Hey, Princess, have a nice nap?" She says, breaking the awkward silence. "Now don't go passin' out or nothing. I know I'm hot and all, but making you faint with one look at the goodness that's me? Damn. Never knew I was that good."

And no matter how crappy I feel, I can still manage a nice eye-roll. She deserves that much.

"I'm pretty sure it was the whole concussion, broken bones, and nearly being starved to death thing, thanks. And here I was thinking that forced servitude might've made you a bit more modest."

Faith grins, and for a moment – as brief as it may be – I almost remember what it feels like to live. There's a charge in the air and the corners of my mouth willing me to smile, but I push it back down. This isn't the time or the place for any of that.

I can't forget where we are and how we got here.

"Well, I never was one for modesty," Faith comments easily. Too easily. "I think we all learned that."

I can't help but wonder, how exactly is Faith acting so casual and easy-going after . . . after all that's happened? I've come across lots of people since we lost. Not a single one of them has been the way Faith is. Something has to be up, and I have every intention of finding out exactly what that is.

"Yeah, but you also weren't one to sit and stay and do what you were told, either," I reply coldly. "You fought us tooth and nail so that you could do what you wanted, when you wanted. What changed?" And then it hits me. I tilt my head and stare at her, trying to see what she's not letting on. "Or . . . maybe that's it: nothing's changed. You've switched sides before, and you're back at it again. Can't hack it -- being a slayer – so you go to work for the bad guys and get to live how you want."

Faith just watches me through my little rant, a look on her face made half of disbelief and half of pure amusement. When I finally manage to stop the accusatory words from flowing out of my mouth, I wait for some type of reaction. A retaliation. Something to prove that she's evil, bad. Something to prove that there's still a bit of the old Buffy left inside of me. 

That I'm right and she's wrong.

Faith, however, just looks over at her guard and gives him a nod. He nods back – clearly a sign of solidarity in their evilness – and shuffles over to the door. A moment later and he's closing the door tightly from the other side.

The large, impenetrable metal door with bars. 

The sound of a lock clicking is unmistakable. 

Cue the awkward and uncomfortable staring match between Faith and I.

A minute or two passes before Faith shakes her head in disbelief. She grabs the chair that was against the wall and pulls it over to the bed where I'm sitting. The room suddenly feels much smaller. She turns the chair around and straddles it, resting her arms over the high back, letting her gaze focus solely on me.

"Listen up, Blondie, cos I'm only gonna tell it to ya once: you literally know shit about me if you think all of that. This situation?" Faith raises her arms and looks around the room we're in, then back to me. "Not exactly ideal. But I'm making do with what I can and just tryin to get by, day to day. These girls here? They look up to me for some fucked up reason. They think that I'm the answer to ending all of this shit. And yunno what? I have no fucking answers, B. We're fuckin screwed here, but there ain't shit I can do about it at the moment. So, I go through my day. I goof with the girls, we spend time together. I keep up the false pretenses that maybe we'll get outta here if we keep on chugging along like good little trains, cos it keeps them alive, Buffy. Which is a lot more than I can say for some places."

Faith finishes her rant and narrows her eyes at me accusingly. She knows. Everything that's happened, everything that I've done, all out in the open. There's no more good slayer and bad slayer.

Still, she has no right to play righteous with me. She doesn't know how hard it was, how hard it is . . . she has no right to look down on me.

"What I did," I begin, my voice shaking, "what happened where I was, is none of your business. I did what I had to do. You know nothing about what it was like there. What it was like after the fall of Sunnydale. After everything else came tumbling down after."

I can't help the defensive tone in my voice. She's backing me into a corner here. Faith is the only person who has made me feel wrong in some way. Forget Spike. I asked for that. 

"And I did what I had to do here, Buffy," Faith interrupts my thoughts. "One minute I'm holding the scythe – which you gave me, by the way – kicking some ass and taking names. The next thing I know, I've got a sword clear through my back and poking out the front of me; a regular shish-kebob. It wasn't a fucking flesh wound, either. I was tossed on a pile of dead girls – girls we knew. And you wanna know something else? I died, Buffy. For two whole minutes, I heard the harps and saw the lights, and it was . . . so fucking beautiful." 

Faith looks away for a brief moment and blinks back tears that she doesn't want me to see. She looks back at me with more intensity and emotion than I've ever felt and continues, "Guess he figured I'd earned my ticket outta hell. That's right: The big guy was welcoming me into his house. I had the keys in my hand, I was walking up to the pearly white gates and BAM! I'm back on the pile of bodies, and the sword is gone, the bleeding stopped. Red came down into the fray and mojo'd me back to life. I wasn't gone too long for her to pull me back," Faith explains excitedly, trying hard to keep her emotions in check.

I can't help but frown. I know what Faith went through. Granted, I was gone for a lot longer than two minutes. But waking up and knowing what Willow had done . . . it's not a feeling I'll ever forget. Even now when I've promised myself not to let feelings rule me, I feel them. Pulling me. Pushing me. Forming little tears in the corners of my eyes that I refuse to let fall. I can't. 

You can't get blood from a stone.

Faith continues. 

"So I'm layin on this pile of bodies, watching as the Turok-Han either slaughter the girls or grab them and line ‘em up against a wall. A big nasty demon grabs Willow after he sees her work her mojo; she's too weak from using all that magic to fight, and I'm too weak to do anything besides play dead. So I watch them march most of you off, and I listen to Spike scream for you as he burns alive. And then there's nothing. Complete darkness. A day or two later I come to, and I climb off the pile of bodies and try to just . . . function. Go for a walk around the school, find nothing but bodies. Lots of bodies."

"Who?" I interrupt eagerly. I need to know.

Faith shrugs, trying not to let the memories affect her. She's trying to tie off her emotions now, or at least to rein them in. "Anya. Andrew. Wood. Random girls that tried to run."

I interrupt again, trying to sit up more fully. 

"What about Giles? And Xander? And . . . ahh!" I cry out and clutch my ribs, the pain almost more than I can handle. 

Sitting up is not good. 

In fact, I'm gonna go ahead and say that sitting up is bad. 

"No clue," Faith answers, ignoring my pain. "Minute I stepped a foot outta the school, I didn't even have a second to take in the chaos that was all around before I was nabbed up and knocked out. Woke up and was hog-tied in the back of some kinda truck with a bunch'a other girls. Couple hour drive and here we are. Been here since."

Faith stays quiet for a few minutes while I take everything in that she's said. She keeps her gaze fixed on me, but I'm pretty much oblivious to it. There's way too much going through my mind. All of this info and I still don't know what the hell happened to my friends.

"Word is that you had it pretty bad," Faith finally says, pulling me from my troubling thoughts.

"This place is a five start hotel in comparison," I respond dryly, trying to avoid Faith's gaze.

"Heard that they didn't make you fight demons. All girl on girl, all the time," Faith continues.

I can't help the chuckle that escapes my throat, though it's completely empty of any feeling whatsoever.

"Leave it to you to make it sound like it was some type of pay-per-view lesbian porn event."

Faith smiles at first, but she quickly realizes that I'm not trying to be funny. I'm just trying to exist in this very moment without breaking down.

"Who was there with you?" She asks quietly.

I finally look up at Faith, pain evident on my face. In my words.

"Does is matter?" I ask her just as quietly. "They're not here now."

Faith nods her head in silent understanding. A minute passes before she asks her final question on the matter.

"How?"

I can't answer. I just continue to stare at Faith, tears filling my eyes yet again but never making their way down my cheeks as I begin to rock ever so slightly. I don't need to speak the words. Faith immediately understands as her eyes widen just a fraction.

She understands that I was the demon. That it wasn't girl against girl; it was demon against girl, and that I was made into a demon to do the bidding of my captors.

Faith runs her hand through her hair and takes a deep breath, exhaling loudly. There's nothing she can say and she knows it. No fitting response, no pep-talk that can take away the pain of my actions. Of what I was made to do.

There's no more light and dark, no more yin and yang, like Andrew used to re-tell again and again. We're the same now, Faith and I. Both killers, both guilty of things no human should do. 

Faith killed a man out of the necessity to live. Self-preservation. If she didn't do what the Mayor asked of her, she likely would've been killed too. I killed those girls with the same rationale. Kill or be killed. And I had something to live for. I needed to save my friends. Save the world.

It didn't matter, the pain. I did what I had to do, just like Faith did what she had to do. I understand that now. It took me becoming her to finally understand her.

It was always all about self-preservation. 

Faith knew pain. She knew what it was to be evil, to be used. Maybe she was never perfect. Hell, Faith used to tell me again and again how she knew that she was a screw-up; that being called as a slayer was her new lease on life. But it was the Mayor who made her into a demon, who had used her as his own private tool. All she wanted was to live. 

When Faith came back to Sunnydale, I overheard a conversation that she had with Giles one night. She told him that it took her a long stint of being alone in jail -- along with much convincing by some friends – to reassure her that she wasn't, in fact, evil. That she was good, and that she had the ability to once again do good.

And we all know that she tried. Traded in her prison suit for a white hat and played for the good guys until the tragic end.

I wonder now, after the way she tried to turn it all around . . . did it take away any of her pain? Did it make up for what she did in her past? Maybe if Faith was able to lose some of the weight of her sins, I'll be able to do the same.

Maybe Faith sees all of this running across my mind. She's staring, eyebrows furrowed, looking deeper into me than I'm possibly comfortable with. Maybe Faith knows that I won't let myself be convinced that I'm good; that I'll always have to carry the pain and regret of what I've done. 

Most importantly, maybe she realizes that I don't know if I'll make it through this minute, this hour, this day if I stay on the same thought train, cos she's suddenly changing the subject.

"When was the last time you ate?" She asks, unsure of exactly what to say or do.

"How long have I been here?" I ask, but I can't bring myself to meet her gaze. I stare blankly at the wall, fighting my inner demons, trying my best not to let my emotions run rampant. 

Emotions show weakness, and weaknesses here only get you killed.

"'bout two days, give or take. We can get you something small, you should be . . ."

"Six days," I murmur. 

Faith looks at me with eyes wide in disbelief.

Six days is pretty par for the course. Sometimes they'd give us food once a week, sometimes twice. Guess they figured that since we were slayers, we could go without for longer.

They were wrong though. Guess they never read their copies of "Slayer Metabolism Weekly."

Faith finally stands and puts the chair back in its place against the wall. She walks over to the big metal door and grasps onto the metal bars on the tiny window, pulling her face closer to it.

"Bobb-o!" She calls out, smiling as the bumbling guard immediately makes his way over. She obviously misses the face I make at her. Bobb-o? "Listen, I'm gonna need some food in here. Get me some kinda red meat, and anything else you can that's not sugary, got it? See if you can scrounge up some protein bars, too."

Bobb-o makes some type of guttural noise in the back of his throat, his eyes blinking rapidly.

"Listen, I know," Faith responds to what obviously only she understands, "I know it's not food time, and I know you're gonna have to sneak, but you've got those pouches hidden all over your body, big guy. Besides . . . you're the man, Bobb-o! No one's gonna think twice to mess with five-hundred pounds of pure brute strength," she says, obviously used to sweet-talking the guy.

Yeah, leave it to Faith to make friends with her guard. She was busy learning how to communicate with him while I was busy avoiding my guard and figuring out ways to slip past him. Why is it that she always befriends the bad guy?

Or am I being a hypocrite? Dervin was nice to me, but I never spoke to him. He never really spoke to me either. We basically tolerated each other's presence. I think that maybe . . . maybe he felt bad for me. 

Then again, I guess my past is speaking against me too. First Angel, then Spike, and Clem . . . I guess I always drift towards the slightly more demonic crowd too.

And then I sleep with them.

…just not Clem. That's a big hell no with the eww and the yuck.

Okay, so maybe Faith and I have more in common than I thought.

Bobb-o makes a gruff chuckling noise, breaking me from my thoughts before he turns and makes his way down the corridor. Faith turns back toward me with a smile on her face.

"Bobb-o," she says, pointing over her shoulder with her thumb.

"Is that his Christian name?" I ask. 

"Well," she begins, sitting back down on the chair like she was a few minutes before, "it's not as classy as ‘Buffy', but I think it has a certain ring to it. Besides, it's way easier to say that than the gurgle way he normally says it."

"Right. A nickname. Imagine the horror if you didn't have a way to communicate with the evil demon that's holding you hostage."

Ahh. And there's the righteous side I thought I'd lost.

Faith narrows her eyes at me, but changes the tone of the conversation right away. Guess she wants to save the fighting with me for inside the ring.

"Food should be here in a bit. Bobb-o's a pretty decent guy. Doesn't mind doing a bit of the ol' sneakery for me cos he knows that I don't step outta line with him. And I mean . . . we don't have TVs here or anything, but sometimes when we're bored, Bobb-o does this dance for us. Kinda reminds me of the truffle-shuffle from The Goonies. Always worth a laugh."

Demon entertainment. What will they think of next?

"Well, I'm thoroughly happy that you've been entertained all this time. Heaven forbid Faith gets bored. All work and no play makes Faith a . . ."

"Raging bitch?" Faith interrupts.

"Well . . . I was gonna go with ‘dull girl', but sure, I guess . . ."

"I mean you, B," she interrupts again. "Listen, whatever chip you have on your shoulder, whatever baggage you're bringin with you, leave it at the fucking door. You think you're gonna come in here and shake this place up, do things your way? You got another thing fuckin' coming. The world undoubtedly sucks right about now, but it's bearable here, and I plan to keep it that way. You don't like it? Hop the fence and take your chances on the outside."

On the outside? Believe me; if I thought I could make it on the outside, I would've done it a long time ago. Besides, what good did it do me the last time? Before the last place was even out of my view, I was zapped and brought here.

"Do you really think I'd make it out of here alive?" I ask, my voice bitter.

She hesitates for a minute, her eyes locked on mine.

"No," she answers. "But believe me when I say that I'm not gonna let you fuck things up here. You put these girls – this situation – in jeopardy and I will pick you up by your big head and toss you over myself."

Before I can stop myself, my hand has made its way up to my head in paranoia. My head is not big. Maybe a bit dirty, maybe a bit bruised, but otherwise perfect.

I catch the grin on Faith's face and I drop my hand down to my lap, embarrassed. Just as she's about to start teasing me, we hear the lock on the door clink and Bobb-o shuffles in. He closes the door behind him, then starts taking wrapped food out from various pockets and . . . oh god, did he just lift up a skin fold?

Suddenly I'm not feeling so hungry.

Faith grabs a couple pieces of beef jerky from a plastic bag and pops them into her mouth, then tosses the bag at me. It lands in my lap and I just look up at her. 

She doesn't expect me to eat this right? I mean . . . sure Bobb-o seems nice and all for an evil demon, but I'm not all keen about eating something that was stashed under his manboob, even if it was wrapped in plastic.

Bobb-o finishes unloading the snacks, then turns around and leaves when Faith gives him an appreciative slap on the back.

I wait until he leaves and I hear the door click shut before I turn to Faith, frowning.

"You can't be serious."

"Totally am. Beggars can't be choosy and you need all the strength you can get."

"Ugh. It can wait."

"Really can't. Slayer healing isn't gonna do much if your body has no energy to do it. Bobb-o brought some peanuts, some beef jerky, some cereal bars, and despite my warning, I'm pretty sure there's some Reese Cups in there for you too."

She picks up the bag of jerky from my lap and holds it out to me, waiting for me to grab it. I just look at the bag, then back up at her.

"I'll pass."

"You pass on this, you're not gonna get any food until tomorrow and I'm tellin ya that ya need it tonight."

She's getting increasingly impatient and I can't for the life of me figure out why. Why does she care if I eat or not and when?

"Then I'll wait until tomorrow," I tell her and put my hand on hers, pushing it away.

She inhales loudly through her nose, her jaw clenched tight, and she narrows her eyes at me.

"You know what's good for you, you're gonna take all of this food and scarf it now, then you're gonna lay down and get some rest."

Her words are even but terse, and I can tell that she's holding back her frustration. But she's not the only one that's frustrated here.

"Why are you suddenly so interested in what I eat and when I sleep?" I ask, my head tilted to the side to study her face.

She stands up straight and drops her arms to her sides, shaking her head in frustration. Taking a few steps toward the door, she opens it up and then pauses, looking back at me over her shoulder.

" 'cos you're fighting tonight."

She tosses the bag over and it lands on the mattress next to me, but I don't reach out to get it. I watch as she walks out of the room – freely – and leaves me alone with a bunch of contraband food and a look of shock on my face.


	5. Chapter Five

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to function without any sense of time whatsoever? No watches, no annoying radio DJ's announcing the hour for the long drive home, no microwaves or televisions with a conveniently placed digital clock. You start to depend on small things to help you figure out some sore of time continuum.

In the old camp, I started out carving little lines in the wall for each day that passed. One, two, three, four lines, and then a slash through them all to mark five days. It seemed to work well. Or should I say, it worked up until the guards started using me as a punching bag. Kinda hard to keep track of the days when you're unconscious for a few at a time. 

Dervin used to help me out with days though. He'd tell me how long I was out for at a time, so I was able to piece together the basic calendar of days and weeks and months that passed. 

When I got good at days, I started working out the hours. 

It was actually pretty easy. There were so many small events that happened every day that let me set up a basic timetable. Guards changing shifts, guards beating slayers for fun, slayers crying for release. Dusk. The vamp guards returning after sunset. Small evening roundups for minor matches during the weeks, and full camp roundups for the big weekend events. 

It all became routine after a while. Comforting almost, despite the total badness of it all. 

But see, I lost that when I came here. I've been in Faith's cell for god only knows how long. I ate the stupid food and I had a stupid nap, but I have no idea what's going on outside of this stupid cell. Faith hasn't come back and really, who could blame her? I know I was a bitch. 

I just don't know how to deal with people anymore. 

It's not like I have a social switch that I can just turn on and off. I made a conscientious decision to distance myself from everyone in the last camp. I couldn't be social with them and then turn and kill them in battle. There was no way I was going to lose, so talking to those girls was like talking to a ghost: completely and utterly pointless. 

I know Faith was expecting the old Buffy, but she doesn't exist any longer. All that's left is what I've become, and I'm pretty sure that I can't go back to being around people again. Not only do I not want to get close to them . . . but I don't want them to see who I've become. 

I can barely stand myself; how can I expect them to understand what I've done? 

Still, I'm determined. As long as I know Dawn is out there, I'll fight for her. I'll stay strong through the suffering. Really, I have no other choice. It's who I was. The last part of the old me that I'm still clinging to. 

I keep pacing back and forth in the cell, walking to the door now and again when I hear anyone outside. Pretty sure I've heard Faith a few times, laughing with some of the girls, but she's keeping her distance. For her sake or mine, I still don't know. 

It's probably for the best though. 

More time passes and I can tell that it's getting dark outside. It's normally when night falls that the games begin so I start to prepare myself. I lift my right leg up on the back of the chair and lean over, stretching my muscles. My body is still weary and crying out for a break from it all, but at least the food and rest has helped my slayer healing speed up. 

It's pretty amazing actually. Willow's spell – that fucking horrible spell – actually intensified some of the slayer abilities. The quick healing has gotten ten times better, but like anything that intense, it needs to consume energy to work properly. The guards at the last camp knew that but they didn't care. They denied us food so that we would suffer, both from hunger and from wounds that could've healed ten times quicker with a bit of sustenance. 

Bastards. I'll kill them all. One day we'll kill them all. 

I continue pacing the room, stopping occasionally to ghost a few punches in the air or to stretch my back and legs. I have no clue what I'm up against tonight, but I really hope they keep me away from the girls. No way are they just gonna let me beat on them without sending a world of hurt my way. Pretty sure Faith's trained them that way. 

My body reacts like it always does when the sun completely sets. My muscles twitch and flex, the slayer getting ready for the evils that the night usually holds. I hear a small commotion outside and then the cell door opens wide. Two demon guards walk in, both holding a few pieces of body armor in their arms. 

"Time to prepare, slayer," one of the guards says. They're not as hostile as the guards at the last camp. Case and point: they leave the armor on the ground in front of me and walk out without playing a game of Smack The Buffy. 

It's a really bad game. I don't suggest playing it. 

I always lose. 

There's no sense in being stubborn; I know I'm fighting tonight whether I want to or not, so I step over to the armor and lift a few of the small pieces in my hands, instantly realizing that it isn't new. It's been worn before, the metal pieces scratched and marred and some of the mesh parts ripped and re-sewn. And just like my old armor, it's pretty much a joke. It won't protect me any more than a bikini would, but I start getting geared up anyhow. 

I don't want to think about where it came from or who the last person to wear it was, nor why she was no longer wearing it. 

Once I'm dressed and ready to go, I sit back on Faith's bed and prop my back against the wall, falling into one of my old rituals. I close my eyes and block everything out, trying to clear my mind of as much as possible. There's no room for regret or hesitation right now. 

Several long minutes pass by before I hear shuffling outside the door again. I don't wait for them to come in and get me; I stand up and wait in front of the door, head down and muscles tensed. I can hear a loud crowd from out in the arena and I know that in a few minutes, I'll get to see firsthand how many demons have come out for the show. 

Keys jingle in the door and it opens slowly to reveal Bobb-O standing there, a big and drooly smile on his face. 

That's right: the big, flabby, drooly demon is smiling at me. 

My day is now complete. 

He starts to say something in a language I can't understand, oblivious to the fact that I have no clue what he's saying. I just look at him, my head tilted to the side as I try to figure it out. He mimics, tilting his head to the side and waiting for me to say something. Several long awkward moments and a staring contest ensues before I finally break the silence. 

"I think we need an interpreter." 

He jabbers on some more, maybe thinking that the silence has helped me to understand him, and then turns around and starts walking, beckoning me after him. I follow behind him, keeping a respectable distance but not straying too far either. Who knows if anyone has it out for me here? 

We round a few corners, getting closer and closer to the arena entrance, when he stops and motions over toward a small open courtyard between halls. I look over and see most of the slayers there. They're all geared up and ready to go but it looks like they're all taking some time to just hang out and, dare I say, mess around a bit. 

One of the slayers is leap-frogging over another's back while the others watch on and laugh. Faith is resting back against one of the cinderblock walls, her arms crossed over her chest and a small smile on her face. She isn't laughing and messing around with the girls, but she's very much a part of it all. 

These girls are able to act the way they are because Faith has made it that way for them. 

Bobb-O makes a gruffling sound and I immediately look over to him, wiling him with the powers of my mind to shut up and keep walking so I can follow him. There's no way I can be over there with those girls. 

I look back to the group of slayers to see if anyone noticed and sure enough, Faith is making her way over to where I'm standing with Bobb-O. There's a very loud sigh that wants to make its way out of me but I'm trying to rein it in. The last thing I need right now is for Faith to be all up in my face about my attitude again. 

Somehow her threats seem worse than the ones I've received from any demon or guard. 

"I see ya got the old armor I sent over," she says, stopping a few feet in front of me. 

I look down at my armor, noticing that it's nowhere as new and nice as Faith's. It's then that I also notice a small ‘F' scraped into the metal on the wrist protectors. 

"Let me guess: your sloppy seconds?" I ask before I can stop myself. 

I wince a little at my own words and look back up to her face to find her chuckling. 

"You're a real trip, Summers. For the record, it was either that or nothing. Figured you'd want what little protection it offers." 

"You're right. Thank you," I say quietly. I can't help but look over at the other girls as silence falls over us. Despite the fact that we're all headed out into the arena soon, they're still in decent spirits. A few are sitting quietly but quite a few of them are jumping and chasing each other around. They're like a little family. 

A little, dysfunctional family. 

Faith must notice where I'm looking because she's suddenly standing a step closer to me and indicating the group of girls over her shoulder with her thumb. 

"You wanna meet ‘em? They're good girls." 

I look from the girls up to Faith and shake my head no. Emphatically no. 

"B . . ." she begins and sighs before continuing, "you're gonna be here for awhile. Crazy thing is, so are these girls. Get over what happened in your old camp and get to know them. They've heard lotsa stories about ya and hey, it'd probably do ya some good too." 

There's no getting over what happened, and there's no going back to being friendly with people who are just going to end up dead anyhow – pretty likely by my own hand. Faith can be their buddy. I need to focus on getting out of here. 

"No," I say evenly and take a few steps back into the hall, stopping when I'm a few feet inside but still able to see out to the courtyard. 

I need to size up my potential foes. 

Faith watches me for a second and looks back to the girls before finally shaking her head and walking over to where I'm standing. She braces herself back against the wall opposite me and crosses her arms over her chest, looking out at the girls like I am. 

"Any pointers you want to throw my way?" I ask. 

"Got a couple things I wanna throw your way, that's for sure," Faith says with a chuckle. "Pointers though? Yeah, sure. The tall blonde Amazon that's standing at the back? That's Marissa. Her power's in her legs. You wanna avoid her kicks at all costs cos they'll seriously fuck you up. Uhh, let's see…" she sticks her neck out and looks past the corner of the wall, "ahh, right. The chick with the long black hair in the ponytail is Ha." 

Ha? Is that a joke? I look at Faith and quirk an eyebrow at her and she just smiles as she watches the girl stretch. 

"Yeah, ya heard me right: Ha. She's Vietnamese. Think it means ‘River' or somethin' like that. Anyhow, she's trained in Vo Binh Dinh which is like this really gnarly kinda martial arts. She's fuckin' fast as lightning and completely lethal with any kind of staff, so watch out for her." 

I look at the girl Faith is describing and I tilt my head to the side. 

"She looks like she's fifteen." 

"Close, fourteen. Age ain't nothin' but a number when ya got slayer powers and some training under your belt though," she says, then scans the crowd again. "And uh….the brunette with the bandana on is Cassie. She's not the best fighter yet but I'm working on it with her. The kid can scream like a fuckin' banshee though. Watch you ears." 

I size up the three girls she mentioned, taking in their size and girth. Marissa definitely has me in size but I've fought bigger foes. As far as the screamer goes, I think I'm immune. She's got nothing on Dawn's shriek. 

Dawn. 

"And which one am I fighting?" I ask, remembering the task at hand. What I have to do. 

"None of ‘em. They're bringing in a group of friendly demons tonight, the kind that co-exist with humans. They're the most common kinda foes, cos then the baddies don't lose anyone on their side and they don't lose any slayers who entertain them so much." 

For the first time since I've gotten here, I heard a real sense of bitterness in Faith's voice then. She might let on like she's all cool and collected, but I know right now for sure that she hates them just as much as I do. 

I feel a small sense of relief as it finally dawns on me what Faith said: I don't have to fight any of the slayers. I'd happily kill a friendly demon if it meant I didn't have to shed any more human blood. 

"Wait, if I'm not fighting against the slayers, why are you filling me in on their fighting styles?" 

"Because they're gonna be fighting behind ya. It's good to know who's on your side and what they can do in case you find yourself needing some backup. They'll keep an eye on your back." 

I look over at her and study her face. She's watching them intently, an almost proud look on her face. 

"What makes you think I'll need help?" 

She shrugs like it's nothing. "Maybe you won't. They might need you to watch theirs on occasion too. It's what we do here. We keep each other safe. And I swear to god B, I wasn't kidding earlier when I told you I'd pick ya up and toss you out myself. I know you're a kickass fighter, been on the other side of your punches more times than I care to count. Point is, I see you standing around and doing nothing while one of my girls is getting whomped on, we're gonna have us a situation. That clear?" 

She holds my gaze, silently challenging me to test her, but I won't. If I don't have to protect myself from the girls, I can try to help. It doesn't mean we're buddies though. It just means that I'd like to get out of here safe and sound some time and I'd like more people on my side to make that happen. 

"Crystal clear." 

"Good, because not only are we fighting demons tonight, but it's a tether match. You're gonna be tied to another slayer." 

My eyes widen. She can't be serious, can she? How the hell am I supposed to do my job when I have some kid tied to me holding me back? 

"That's just great," I sigh, shaking my head back and forth. "Anything else I should know?" 

"Yeah," Faith says, smiling wide, "keep away from the front corners of the arena. They're . . . tricky." 

There's something she's not telling me but I guess I'll have to find out the hard way. The guards have stepped in and they're here to lead us into the arena. 

* * *

I'd like to say that this arena is just like the last, but that's not true. This one holds a lot more spectators. And since they've got a bigger viewing audience, they've doctored the whole place up a little. There's a small area with tall walls like a maze. There are a few stone platforms to jump up on and large marble columns. A few cages here and there. 

I can see a chain-gang of demons on the other side of the arena, probably the ones we're gonna be fighting. They look scared; like they know they have no chance of getting out of here alive. Judging by what I've seen, they're probably right. 

The slayers behind me are getting into fight mode, their sneers and snarls almost feral in nature. The only other one beside myself that's quiet is Faith, and I think that's only because she's watching me intently, trying to see who's going to be my partner. 

There's a cool slap of metal on my left wrist and I look down to see an iron manacle on it. The other end is firmly attached to Ha who is now staring at me with a wild smile on her face. Gotta say, it's a bit unnerving. 

"Hey B," Ha says, adopting Faith's nickname for me. "I hear many stories of you. I thought you would be taller girl." I ignore Faith's laughter from behind me. "Don't worry, we go easy first time out. Just follow me and keep head down." 

I can only manage to raise an eyebrow at the girl. She grabs a long spear from the weapons table and I hear the other girls groan aloud. Before I realize what's going on, she breaks out into some kinda dancing ninja routine, swinging and jabbing the spear everywhere but through me. The demons start yelling and cheering from within the stadium and right away I know I've been locked to the crowd favorite. 

Just fantastic. 

Over the loud buzz of the crowd, someone starts speaking. It's one of the demons that run the camp. He's up on a podium and he's making some kind of a speech about newcomers and exciting events being planned, but I'm not really paying attention. 

I can only pay attention to the jumbotron on the far end of the stadium that's displaying a live feed of my little sister. 

"What the fuck?" I hear Faith from behind me. "B?" 

Dawn's only half-conscious, her skin pale and dirty and her eyes red and tired. She's gazing at whoever is taping her but she's looking past the camera like she doesn't even know it's there. She's suffering and there's nothing I can do about it. I don't even want to think about what they've done with Willow. This is the first time she hasn't been there with Dawn, unconscious and tied up in the background. 

I still hear Faith behind me but there's no time to explain what's going on. A loud horn has sounded and the guards are pushing us out into the fray. I'm still moving slow but Ha is literally pulling me around by the chain connecting us, yelling at me about dragging my feet. 

The demons across the way are released too and they scatter, spreading out around the arena. That's their first mistake. It's easy to pick them off when it's one at a time. Strength in numbers. Wish it could've been that easy at the last camp, but no numbers could conquer me there. 

I'm pulled from my thoughts when a huge sword swipes between Ha and I, just narrowly missing the both of us. 

"Canh gác nó!" she yells, jumping up and kicking her legs out to knock down the demon that tried to sneak up on us from the side. The demon stumbles backwards and into another pair of slayers who take him out in less than five hits. They don't linger and they don't draw out the kill; they do their job and they move on. "Pay attention!" Ha yells at me, yanking on the chain to get my attention. 

She's really cruising for a bruising but I don't have time to make threats because I'm being yanked along again. We near the corner of the arena and I can see a demon lurking back there trying to hide. I instantly start to head for him but Ha is pulling me in the other direction, her eyes wide. 

"No, we go this way!" 

I look at the direction she's pointing in and see a handful of demons but they're all being handled by the slayers around us. Why the hell isn't anyone going for the guy in the corner? 

"No, we go this way," I mimic her and give the chain a tug, making Ha stumble along behind me. 

"No, wait . . . stop . . . dừng lại!" 

She's still tugging on the chain but her strength is no match for mine. We get within a few yards from the demon and I hear the crowd start to roar. Suddenly the ground goes out from beneath my feet and I start to slip down an incline but Ha stands firm on the ground, pulling me back up by the chain. She whips me out of the way just as a Tiger comes leaping out and swipes at us. He missed me but his claws catch Ha on her lower right leg. She tucks down into a somersault and rolls out of the tiger's path, just barely escaping his grasp as he reaches the end of his chain. 

You've gotta be fucking kidding me. It's official. I'm in a Russell Crowe movie. This is getting beyond ridiculous. 

"You crazy, lady!" she yells, her hand grasping her leg. I pull her hand away and look at the wound which isn't as bad as it could've been. 

"You'll live. Come on." I take her other hand and pull her up, then take her arm and throw it over the back of my neck so I can help her limp away. 

By now a whole throng of slayers have made their way over and are checking us over. 

"What the fuck, B. Didn't I tell ya to avoid the corners?" Faith asks, checking out Ha's leg. 

"You said it was tricky, Faith. You didn't mention anything about a fucking zoo," I answer back angrily. 

The slayers around us take out the tiger as he made a midnight snack of the demon who was hiding out. The crowd roars loudly and I hear the slayers start to cheer too. I look around trying to figure out what the hell is going on but everyone is too busy high-fiving and hugging to throw me a bone. 

Faith ducks under Ha's other arm and nods toward one of the exits to the slayer camps. We help Ha hobble along as the crowd cheers and roars, the other slayers eventually falling in line behind us. 

Apparently, we were only the opening act. Now it's a demon versus demon death match, a tournament of sorts. 

That's it? Really? I keep looking around, waiting for someone to say that it's a joke and that we'll be going back out to kill each other soon, but this looks to be the end of our fighting for the night. 

"It's not always this easy," Faith says quietly so that only Ha and I can hear her, though Ha is too busy groaning and cursing at me in Vietnamese to listen. "Tonight was a good night. No slayers dead, only one or two injured." 

"Why don't they make us fight each other?" I ask, the only question that's really on my mind right now. I'm truly puzzled. 

"Because they don't want us to die. Not until they know they can get a steady stream of new slayers in here to replace us." 

I notice that we're headed toward a familiar area of the camp. The infirmary. Diane is waiting patiently, a small tray of medical supplies next to her. 

"Who's hurt?" she asks, taking Faith's place under Ha's arm and helping me move her over to a cot. 

"Jaslene and Ha. Jaslene got it easy, just a few scratches. Ha's not so lucky. She's gonna need some stitches," Faith explains, then looks around in earnest. "Bobb-O? We need these chains gone." 

Bobb-O comes meandering over with an old iron key in his hand. He smiles almost shyly at me before unlocking the manacles. I instantly rub my wrist, realizing how sore it is from the iron. He moves around the other slayers then, unshackling them and setting them free. The girls whoop and holler, doing flips and cartwheels around the yard. Faith watches with a smile, then turns and looks at me. 

"They're celebrating. No deaths and only two treatable injuries. It's a good night." 

"Yeah, just swell," I reply, grimacing at the sticky blood covering my leg from Ha's wound. 

"Listen . . . stay with us. I promise, you don't have to have any kinda fun. You don't even have to laugh or smile. Just . . . be with the girls, B. They need it. You need it." 

The thought of having fun makes me want to be sick. I can't be around this. If the girls want to celebrate, they can, but I have too much to mourn for still. I can't get the image of Dawn out of my head and I need some silence. 

"If it's all the same to you, I need some alone time. Ritual and all. You guys have your fun. I can't do that." 

She watches me for a few long moments, then shakes her head in disappointment. 

"Fine, B. You're not gonna find any alone time or quiet out here. Just, uh . . . you can stay in my cell tonight. I'll bunk with the girls." 

As much as I know I should be meek and deny her offer, I honestly don't think I can be out here with them. I don't know how to be around people anymore. 

"Thanks," I simply reply. "I'm just gonna . . ." I point in the direction of her cell and she nods. I nod back just once and then head off, following the dime lights along the way. I notice that Bobb-O is following not too far behind me, trying not to be too obvious. 

Ahh, right. I'm not one of ‘them' yet. He's gonna have to lock me in. 

I step into the cell and am startled back by a little furball that charges at me and starts running around my feet. He's barking and wagging his tail excitedly, obviously thinking that I'm someone else. 

Bobb-O starts laughing behind me and says something that roughly sounds like ‘socky'. That's when I hear someone jogging up to the cell. 

"Hey, Saucey, come on. We're gonna sleep with the girls tonight," Faith says, not even paying me any attention as the dog runs over to her excitedly and hops up into her arms. She turns and carries him back into the camp, talking to him like he actually understands her. 

I look back at Bobb-O and he's waving his big meaty hand at me as he closes the door. 

"Night night," he gruffles out. 

The door shuts with a loud clink and the lock clicks into place a moment later. I close my eyes and take in a deep breath, finally alone again. It always used to be a comforting feeling for me – being back in my cell all alone after a fight. It's all wrong now though. I can hear the girls messing around in the yard not too far away, celebrating their good work. 

Part of me wishes I could be out there with them, but I know that I can't. It's just not my place anymore. 

I unclasp and shrug my armor off onto the floor, then make my way over to the sink and wash up as best as I can in the small basin. It may be small, but it's still about a bajillion times better than the bowl of water I'm used to getting. I take a bit of extra time, cleaning off the dirt and grime of the day. The water runs red as I clean off Ha's blood, but it eventually turns clear again. The blood washed away. 

Momentarily exhausted, I stumble over to Faith's cot and collapse onto it, not bothering to pull on my regular clothing. The sheets are scratchy and hard against my skin but it feels good. It reminds me where I am so I can't dream about happier places and wake up thinking that I'm still in them. 

I close my eyes and I feel sleep tugging at me already. As far as days go, this one wasn't the worst ever. Weird, definitely, but not the worst. I probably shouldn't get my hopes up though. 

I'll start small. Maybe I'll have a night without nightmares. 

It would be a first.


	6. Chapter six

Faith and I are sitting high up in the arena in one of the spectator seats, looking down at all of the girls warming up on the dusty field below. It seems like they're moving in slow motion but maybe that's because we're sitting so high up. The silence isn't unwelcomed – I can do without Faith's particular brand of sarcastic optimism for a little while – but I find myself needing to speak.

"I wonder if they know," I say.

"Know what?" she asks, glancing over at me.

"How this all ends."

"Do _you?_ "

"Same story, different day," I answer with a shrug, not moving my gaze from the field below.

" ‘She saved the world. A lot.' " 

"Not as of late."

"Doesn't matter. Always openings for the role of hero."

She goes back to watching the girls below so I take a chance to look over at her. Something stirs in me, a memory, and I feel my fists clench again and again.

"Maybe I'm not the hero."

"Maybe you are and you just forgot how to play."

"What if I'm the enemy?" I ask her. 

Before I can stop myself, I feel my right hand clench around something cold and hard and I lash out, burying a small silver blade into her abdomen. She gasps and lurches forward, bringing her face inches from mine. Her hand latches onto mine over the blade and keeps it pressed there as her warm blood pours over me.

A shuddery breath escapes her lips and her voice takes on an ethereal quality as I feel it blow over my face. 

"An enemy stabs you in the back, but a true friend stabs you in the front."

I gasp and sit up quickly to find myself inside a dark room, my breath coming hard and fast as I try to remember where I am. Blankets. Uncomfortable bed. Dripping water.

Faith's cell.

I lay back on the cot and close my eyes, trying to push the memory of the nightmare out of my head. I'm used to nightmares. I mean, they never get more pleasant, but they also never feel quite like this one had. It felt familiar. Less lonely.

It felt like a slayer dream.

Fifteen minutes or so pass and I hear noises coming from outside in the camp. Girls waking up, the day starting as usual. I still have to learn the schedule around here, but I'm willing to guess that they're not going to let me lay in bed all day.

A familiar voice nears the door from outside and I know as soon as I hear the click of the lock that Faith has come to re-claim her personal space. I start to sit up . . . and quickly realize that I never put my clothes back on last night after I took off my armor. There's no way I can make it across the room before the door opens so I make sure I'm suitably covered with the thin blanket and pretend to be asleep. 

I hear her take a step into the room and pause, kind of like she's considering leaving me alone to sleep more. But then I hear a soft laugh and her walking further into the room as the door closes behind her. 

"Can quit pretending, B. I know you're awake." 

The lock clicks into place behind her and I know that we're trapped together now. 

I crack open one of my eyes and see her sitting on the chair, nibbling on some kind of cereal bar. She's got a few more stacked up next to her, along with what smells like some kind of weak coffee in a ceramic mug. 

"You have coffee here?" 

She shrugs and takes a big sip from the mug before holding it out for me. 

"Yeah, or something that passes for it anyhow. Ain't Starbucks but it does the trick." 

I start to sit up and even hold out my arm, but then I remember my nakedness and stop my movement. She raises an eyebrow at me in question and I feel almost shy when I reply, 

"You're kind of sitting on my clothes." 

Faith's other eyebrow shoots up and she does a bit of a squat-stand and looks under her ass to see my pants and shirt sitting wrinkled under her. She has to fight to keep the cereal bar in her mouth when she starts laughing and easily flicks the clothes over to me, then wipes the back of her hand over her mouth. 

"So Buffy sleeps in the buff. While in my bed, might I add. Who woulda known?" 

"No one, because I usually don't," I manage to get out as I struggle to pull my pants on under the sheet. I can hear Faith chuckling at the fact that I'm getting dressed under the blankets but trust me, it's better this way. 

She doesn't need to see the scars. 

When I poke my head out at last, I see her taking another big sip from the mug. The look on my face must be priceless because she holds up her free hand in mock surrender and walks over to hand it to me. 

I peer down into the mug once I take it from her and I'm pretty sure I don't remember coffee being that light-colored, but I shrug and take a sip anyhow. It can't be worse than anything I've had over the last year. I'm surprised to find that it tastes pretty good and is even pretty hot. My eyes light up and I look over to Faith who offers me a friendly smile. 

"There's more where that came from. Unless the girls drank it all, that is. Gotta get up pretty early if ya want anything good." 

And there's the hitch in my plan to get more. I don't want to be out and about with the other girls. I'll just drink this slowly and savor it. I take another sip and let the warm liquid pour down my throat, making me feel almost human again. We're silent for a few minutes but I decide to try my casual conversation skills out just a little. It's been quite a while. Here goes nothing. 

"So you get up pretty early these days?" 

"Not really," Faith replies noncommittally. 

"You just wanted to come and spend some quality time with me then?" It almost sounds like I'm teasing her a little and I'm not even sure where that came from. Like I said, out of practice. I take another sip of coffee and wait for her reply. 

A tight smile appears on her face after a minute and she says, "An enemy stabs you in the back, but a true friend stabs you in the front." 

I can barely finish swallowing before my body stiffens up, my eyes meeting hers across the short distance. She's looking right at me, waiting to see if I'll acknowledge what she said. I guess my attempt at non-reaction was answer enough. 

"Slayer dream or not, it's still just a dream, Buffy. Lots of the girls have them, but they venture into nightmare territory more often than into any kind of helpful premonition territory." 

"So you're not upset that I stabbed you in the gut in the dream?" I ask, forgetting myself for a moment. 

She just shrugs and tries to smile but it doesn't reach her eyes. "Not the first time you've stabbed me, B. Lucky for me this time was a dream and not the real deal." 

I nod at her and things go quiet again, awkwardly so. It seems like there's something she's waiting to say but she's not so sure about it. She catches me staring at the cereal bars and tosses a couple over so they land in my lap as I sit with my back against the cool wall. They taste decent even though they're a little stale but I guess beggars can't be choosy; I'm pretty sure that General Mills doesn't operate post-Apocalypse. 

"Kinda wanted to talk to ya about last night," she says, pausing for a moment afterwards to finish chewing her bit of cereal bar. 

This could go badly. It can turn into a fight about my stubbornness, or about how she's going to throw me over the fence by my head. As much as I appreciate the enthusiasm behind her earlier threats, I really think it's better for the both of us if we don't get into it now. Not when we're locked in a small room together. 

"Look, I know. I did things my way and someone got hurt. I'll try to get it right next time but you have no idea how hard it is for me to . . ." 

"That's not what I'm talkin' about, B, but now that ya said something . . . yeah, that was pretty stupid too." At my unimpressed look, she looks down at her hands for a moment before looking back up to my eyes. "Dawn." 

"Yeah," I say quietly, staring down at my own lap now. 

"How long they been usin' her to get you to fight?" 

"Since the first time," I reply and look up at Faith, making sure to keep all of my emotions in check. "She's out there somewhere, Faith. I don't know where, and I don't know for how much longer, but she needs me. Willow's there with her and they both need me. If I can get to them – if I can find them, and Giles and Xander – we can regroup." 

"B," she interrupts, her voice quiet, but I shake my head to stop her. 

"Don't," I say. "You're fighting because these girls depend on you. They need you to get them through." 

"B," she tries again but I stop her once more. 

"Well I'm fighting because my friends depend on me. They need me to get them through. And I won't let anything stop me." 

"They're probably all dead by now, Buffy," she finally says, surprising even herself. 

My hand goes up over my mouth as it falls open in shock and I shake my head, unwilling to believe her. 

"No." 

"It's a fucking sucky reality, but it is what it is." 

"You have no proof," I say, fighting back my emotions. 

I can tell by the pained expression on her face that maybe I spoke too soon. 

"Months back word got around the camp about a human the demons had; they were trying to get him to use magic to call more slayers. Figured he could do it because he was used to being around magic and stuff. Plan was to have him call slayers over and over again; the sadistic fun would never end. He tried the magic and it worked once, but he couldn't do it again. There's no way to be sure, but I think it was Giles, B. And when they found out his magic was tapped, they killed him." 

The blood on Willow's shirt; could that have been from Giles? 

Oh god. 

I sit forward on the edge of the cot and put my head in my hands, taking a deep breath. Faith isn't done though. 

"They needed a new way to call slayers though, so they went to the original source." 

"Willow," I mumble out. 

"Yeah. She's been calling them ever since. Not often; it takes her so long to recuperate her magic that she needs a pretty big down time. But the entire camp is talkin about it, Buffy. One of the girls heard the guards talking earlier; he said that the witch ran out of steam and that they had to replace her." 

It hurts to listen to this, not because it's horrifying but because it could be true. What Faith is saying could actually be real, and everything I've seen, everything I've done . . . I shake my head to stop the horrible images from playing over in my mind. 

Could this be why Willow wasn't with Dawn the last few times they put on the Dawn-cam? Is my sister out there alone and scared and giving up hope that I'll ever get there? It hits me like a brick wall and I'm on my hands and knees on the ground before I realize it, emptying my stomach. Faith is at my side in a flash, pulling my hair away from my face with a soft hand on my back. 

I flinch at her touch but she doesn't realize it; she probably thinks I'm dry-heaving again but doesn't realize that I'm just not used to that kind of human contact any longer. 

"It's just camp talk, B, but it all seems scary-right when ya think about it. You can keep fightin' for them if you want, but you need to find something else to fight for too. You need to start fighting for yourself, because you want to live." 

"It's all shit," I utter out as I sit back against the side of the cot, resting my head back against it with my eyes closed. "Everything is shit. I'm in a nightmare and I can't wake up, and they have my sister and I'm stuck here." 

For the first time in as long as I remember, I let myself cry. I don't sob and I don't wail. I barely make a noise. The tears fall silently from the corners of my eyes and Faith just sits back against the cot with me, tracing little patterns in the dirt on the floor as she waits for me to calm down. 

Several minutes pass by before she speaks again. 

"Listen, I'm sorry for giving you the big ugly dose of reality. Maybe I shoulda just kept my mouth shut." 

I can't do anything but nod. There are too many thoughts running through my head to answer her. 

"Got an idea you're probably gonna hate," she continues, "but I'm gonna run it by ya anyway. Guards got a shower facility the teams used to use when this place was less about the carnage and more about the football. Bobb-o's a big softy and sneaks me down there now and again when I get a bit ripe. Bet he'd be willin' to take us down there if I asked him to. So let's go get some more grub, say hey to the girls, and go and hose off." 

As much as the food and shower sound tempting, I don't want to be around anyone right now. I just found out that Giles is probably dead, possibly Willow too, and all I want is to be alone to find a way to deal with that in my head. 

"Thanks, but I'll pass." 

Faith takes a deep breath and lets it out through her nose, studying the side of my face the entire time. I know she really wants me to go with her but it's just not gonna happen. Not now. 

"I think it'd be a really good idea if you'd just . . ." 

"Look," I stop her, a bit of my irritation coming through. "I just got a whole bushel of bad news dropped on my already aching head. I appreciate the hospitality – I do – but parading around with the other slayers isn't going to make me feel any better." 

"How do you know that?" she asks, her irritation bubbling to the surface a little. "You haven't given them the chance to try. They're slayers just like you and me, B. They're a family; they take care of and look out for each other, and they want you to be a part of that." 

"I just need to be alone for a little while," I mumble out, my voice small and tired. 

I think she finally gets the hint because she stands up and brushes the dust from the back of her pants a little too brusquely. She raps her knuckles on the back of the door and the lock clicks then slowly opens. 

"Like you haven't already been alone enough the last year and a half," she says gruffly. "I understand you're in a rough sitch emotionally and all that but so is everyone else. Keep isolating yourself like this and you're gonna find that when you're ready to be around people, no one's gonna want to be around you." 

She walks out and the door closes – and locks – quickly behind her. I hear her footsteps receding, then quickly approaching once again. 

"And if you think I'm givin' up my room to you forever, you're dreaming. One more night, B. I'm serious about that too." 

A second later I hear her walk away again and take a big breath of relief. I didn't feel like arguing with her all day about my social schedule. After the bombshell she dropped on me, I just need some time to think. 

Still, I know she wasn't lying when she said I only had one more night in here. That means I'm with the general population of slayers tomorrow. I haven't had to be around others like that in so long . . . I have no idea how I'm going to handle that. Maybe I should've taken Faith up on her offer to go get to know the girls if I'm gonna be spending lots of time with them soon, but I think I'd like to take the rest of my alone time before it's gone. 

I sit back on Faith's cot and try to down another cereal bar. It doesn't taste as good without some of the weak coffee to go with it but it's better than nothing. I can hear the sounds of girls messing around in the yard outside, then of Faith joining them for some light sparring. She's teaching them some advanced blocking techniques and I can't help but wonder when she'd learned them; Faith was always the one to strike first, not defend against blows. 

Hours pass and I can practically feel the sun slip down behind the horizon. The arena is quiet tonight – no carnage for the masses – so the girls are having a night to themselves. I can't believe how different things are here; back at the other camp the girls would be hidden away and trying to avoid nightly beatings right about now. 

I know I told Faith earlier that I wanted to be alone, and I did; I do. But I guess that I should probably go and play nice if I want things to stay civil around here. 

Trust me, I think I'm better off on my own – and I think the girls are better off without me too – but like I've been reminded on more than one occasion, this isn't my show. 

I make my way over to the basin and splash my face with some cool water, then try to make myself look as presentable as possible in the small mirror Faith has hung up on the wall. My hair is long and in need of some deep conditioning and I can definitely use some facial moisturizer, but somehow I don't think anyone here will hold that against me. 

Taking a deep breath, I walk over to the door and hesitate before knocking on it gently. There's a shuffling sound on the other side and then Bobb-o's smiling face is in the small window. 

"Harrow Bee." 

Oh my god. Is it possible that I'm starting to understand him? 

"Umm, hi. I'd like to go and see Faith." 

He makes what sounds like a pleased snarfle and quickly unlocks the door. I step out and begin to walk toward the camp but Bobb-o's meaty hand on my shoulder stops me. He nods in the other direction and walks off, gesturing for me to follow him. I keep a few steps behind but follow him down a long corridor and to another locked door. We pass lots of other guards on the way but none of them seem to pay us attention. 

When he opens the door, he doesn't go inside, he simply steps back and waits for me to enter. I hesitate and look at him and he offers me another dopey smile. 

Right, guess I'm not getting any clues for what's behind door number two. 

I don't get very far inside before I hear the sound of water running. It's not a faucet; it's a shower. The air is a lot moister and I can see a bit of steam creeping around the corner just ahead of me. I take a few steps forward and peek around the corner to see a very naked Faith with her face in the warm spray of a shower, seemingly oblivious to my presence. 

I open my mouth to say something but I can only manage a surprised squeak. 

Faith moves her face from the spray and blinks the water from her eyes a few times before smiling broadly. She doesn't try to cover up, doesn't get embarrassed; in fact, she turns around and lets the water run down her back, leaving her front side on full display. 

When did she get so many tattoos? There's one on her stomach and one on her thigh that goes from just above her knee all the way up to her . . . 

"Knew you couldn't resist a hot shower." 

I quickly avert my gaze from where it was traveling to and clear my throat. Trying to appear casual, I lean back against the wall and cross my arms over my chest. 

"I had no idea this was the shower. I . . ." I pause and take a deep breath, "I asked Bobb-o to bring me to you. Figured that since you're kicking me out of your room tomorrow, I might as well take you up on getting to know the girls." 

Her smile grows and I can tell that she's pleasantly surprised. She quickly turns the water off and heads directly toward me, then stops about a foot away and waits expectantly. 

What, does she expect me to hug the water off or something? 

"You're kinda on my towel, B." 

She points behind me and I realize that in my attempt to be casual, I've commandeered her towel as a wall cushion. I quickly step away and let her grab it, looking anywhere but at her while she dries off and gets changed. 

"Let's head on over to the girls and say hey before it gets too late. I'll have Bobb-o bring ya back for a shower tomorrow." 

"Sure," is all I can manage to reply. 

Truth be told, my stomach is suddenly in a ball of knots knowing that I'm gonna have to go and be with the other slayers. I'm not ready. This is too much but it seems to be my only choice. 

We make our way to the door and Bobb-o leads us back to the common area on the outside of the stadium where all of the girls are gathered and sitting around. There are two of them in the middle of the group, acting out some kind of skit and doing acrobatics to entertain the girls. I pretty much feel like I've just walked into a slumber party except there's no popcorn and no overbearing mother walking in with Tang and rice-krispy treats. 

Someone notices us walk up and then all attention is on Faith and I – more specifically Faith – as she greets a bunch of the girls by name. 

"Guys, you all know Buffy by now. Take it easy on her, yeah?" Faith says. 

A few random girls say hi and then one yells out, "Hey Laura, that means no trying to molest her." 

Everyone laughs and hoots and hollers and even Faith is laughing with them now. 

"Shut up, Haze. You know I'd only molest her if she wanted me to," a girl who must be Laura yells back, then winks at me. 

Perfect. First and eyeful of Faith's nudie business and now this. I'm suddenly craving the dark and dank of Faith's room again. Faith sees me get a little uncomfortable and gives me a smile and a nod. She wants me to know I'm doing well. 

She can think what she wants; I feel like a rubberband that's being pulled too tightly and is about to snap. My insides are squirming and my muscles are tight; I can't be here with them right now. They can't depend on me. I'll only end up hurting them in the long run. 

I turn to leave and find myself face to face with a girl at least a foot taller than I am. She holds out her hand . . . and something inside of me snaps. A memory floods my mind from the old camp; a tall slayer named Trish and I in the middle of the ring. She was fighting for her life and managed a few lucky blows, one of them being a small blade in my shoulder. I remember the blade in her hand gliding through the air and digging into my shoulder. The pain. And what I had to do to her after all of that. 

I'm so wrapped up in the memory that when the girl in front of me puts her hand on my shoulder to see if I'm okay . . . I lash out. I send my palm up to her face and feel the sickening crunch of bone and cartilage. I don't even get a chance to land a second blow before I feel myself being restrained from behind. 

Despite the fact that I know where I am, I can't get the image of the old arena and the old camp out of my head. I start kicking and thrashing, thinking I'm being carried away by a guard, and don't stop until I'm thrown through the door of Faith's room. The door slams behind me and I look up with panic to find Faith standing there looking madder than I've ever seen her. 

Trust me, that's not a good thing. 

She takes a few steps toward me . . . then uppercuts me and sends me flying backward into the wall. I feel pieces of concrete break off and hit the ground around me. 

"What the _fuck_ were you doing back there?" she practically growls. 

I don't get a chance to answer. She takes four determined steps toward me and crouches down until she's right in my face. 

"I don't know who the fuck you think you are, but I'll tell you one thing: that was your one chance and you fucking blew it. Stay in here and rot forever since that's what you fucking seem to want. But I'll never let you near those girls again if you're gonna hurt them when they just wanna fucking be there for you." 

She turns around and grabs a few things of hers from around the room, then knocks on the door. Bobb-o opens it, a scared look on his face, and Faith moves to leave. 

"Faith," I call out and she stops but doesn't turn back. 

"Fuck off, Buffy. The welcome wagon is gone. You're on your fucking own."


	7. Chapter Seven

Slayer healing is a great thing. It really is. Bruises fade in just a couple days, bones mend quickly; it makes a slayer's life, in general, that much easier. With a steady supply of food at hand, Willow's spell juiced up the healing ability so that it took even less time.

Still, it took me a good day to stop seeing stars when Faith punched me, and almost four days after that for the swelling and bruising to go away. 

I almost forgot how hard she could hit. Felt like high school all over again except this time she had the team to back her up and I was the one that was alone.

Guess I know what it felt like to be Faith back then. 

Bobb-o checked in on me a couple of times every day but I never once heard from Faith or the other girls. He'd bring me food here and there and he even did that truffle shuffle dance once Faith had told me about. I think he felt bad for me; he knew I wasn't like the other girls there. Maybe he'd heard about me from the other guards. He offered to take me to the showers or the common area several times but I just wasn't ready. I couldn't face Faith and I certainly couldn't face the girls after I'd hurt one of them. 

It was a mistake, pure and simple, but I knew they'd never understand that. They've been here all this time while I was back in hell. They can't understand how I'm afraid every time I blink that I'm gonna end up back at the old camp and that Nikolos and his guards will finally get the best of me. 

There's a very distinct possibility that my friends are dead, but Dawn is still out there and that's reason enough for me to fight. If anything happens to her; God, I don't even want to think about it. 

Nearly sixteen days pass before I'm finally ready to swallow my fear – and my pride – and decide that I need to venture out of my new room courtesy of Faith. I still think it's a bad idea to be around them – around her – but maybe Faith was right. I've been on my own so long that I forget how much having supportive people around me helps. 

It feels like a home here, or as close as you can get under these circumstances. Maybe that's what I'm really scared of; I don't want to get too used to this place, these people, when I know it can all go to shit at any minute. I've seen the worst and I'm afraid it's going to slip back to that.

It's not like I was locked up tight in the room these last twelve days; Bobb-o unlocked the door every day and hoped I'd leave, but I never did. I'd lay on Faith's cot and listen to the sounds of the girls messing around, talking, feeling like I didn't deserve a place among them.

When it came time to fight, the demons that run the camp either didn't realize or didn't care that I wasn't brought out both of the times the arena had been open. Bobb-o brought me out one night but none of the girls dared make eye contact or talk to me.

I was the plague, and Faith had told them to avoid me appropriately. 

I couldn't blame her or them; nothing good had come from my presence since before we'd all ended up in these damn camps.

When Bobb-o realized I was the only one without a partner, he didn't make me sit around and watch. When the other guards were preoccupied, he led me back to my room and let me stay there. He didn't even bother to take me out for the second fight a few days later. 

Tonight is another arena night though and I know I can't stay hidden away any longer. As scared as I am to be around the girls – to be a part of them – and as much as I don't want to fight, I know I have to be there.

Besides, every demon killed is one less that will be in the way when it's time to fight back and find Dawn. Can't let the newbies take all the credit. 

It's shortly after I wake when I hear the metallic clink of the lock opening. Bobb-o doesn't come in but it's his way of letting me know that I can leave if I want to. He'll bring me something to eat in around twenty minutes, so I make it a point to get up right away to get ready. I wash up as best I can in the small sink and get dressed quickly, running my fingers through my damp hair a few times before looking at myself in the mirror. I don't linger there long; it's still hard to look at myself some days. 

Taking a deep breath, I walk over to the door and push it open just in time to see Bobb-o standing there with a small single-serving box of dry cereal and a juice box of some kind. He looks surprised to see me up and about but then flashes me what I can only guess is a big smile.

"Bee outside!"

"Uh-huh," I answer. "Thought maybe I'd wander over, see if I can get some coffee."

He looks down at his big meaty hands and quickly hides them behind his back. Guess he doesn't want me to see the food he brought and reconsider.

"I'm just gonna . . ." I point off to the side and when he nods and takes a step back, I move around him and head out into the courtyard. 

The sun is bright and warm and completely mocking us all; like anyone can actually enjoy it any longer. I guess some people have found a way to do just that though as I look off to the left and see a few girls resting back on the ground, stretching their weary muscles and catching some rays. It all seems too bright for me though and I immediately head for the big canvas tent that has a few rows of tables with chairs under it. I guess it's where they serve food because there are a bunch of girls sitting around and eating random bits of food while the camp doctor Diane talks – actually talks – to some kind of a demon up at the front.

"We'll need more supplies soon. There are more girls so we're going through everything quicker. Food, medical supplies, any kind of bedding that can be spared."

"I'll ask the boss," the demon replies gruffly. "Make do with what you have until then."

He turns and leaves quickly, disappearing through a locked door across the courtyard. Diane watched until he was out of sight before quietly murmuring, "We'll do our best."

She grabs a box from the ground and lifts it easily, placing it on the table next to her so she can rummage through it without having to bend over. Without warning she starts grabbing what looks like cereal bars from the box and tossing them over her shoulder at a few girls waiting behind her. The girls catch and eagerly open them before tearing into the small bars like they were the best thing in the world.

"New girls, just arrived last night," comes a voice from off to the side. 

I turn my head to see a young slayer sitting on the table next to me with her feet resting on a chair. Her hair is long and dark and I'm not sure I met her before but I'm pretty sure I saw Laura and Hazel talking to her a couple weeks back.

"Krista, right?"

She nods but says nothing else, her eyes focused out in the yard now.

"Arrived from where?" I ask, my voice still a bit hoarse from lack of use.

She shrugs before finally answering, "Who knows. Could be from another camp, could be stragglers that were newly called. They're too scared to talk to anyone but D and Faith right now."

I look over at the new arrivals and . . . god they're young. None of them look older than fifteen or sixteen. Diane is trying to be friendly and earn their trust, but they don't need a big sister; they need parents, someone to protect them from all of this. This never would have happened if I hadn't let Willow do that spell; if I hadn't failed…

"You busted Jo up pretty good," Krista says, still not looking at me. "Doc says she ain't gonna be able to breathe right for a while."

"It was an accident," I mumble out quietly, looking down at the ground.

"Yeah, well accident or not, you should be the one that has to bunk with her now. I dream about trains every night cos her nose whistles all night long."

"Look, I'm sorry. Something in me clicked and I couldn't . . ." I begin but she cuts me off quickly.

"Don't apologize to me, girl. You've got bigger fish to fry. Jo and Faith have been here together since the beginning and they're pretty inseparable. Faith is taking the whole thing personally."

I take a step closer to her, wanting to ask her about Faith and anything else she's willing to share, but she looks quickly over at me and then away again when she sees me move.

"Do me a favor," she begins, her eyes focused on the yard again. "Try not to make it obvious we're talking. Don't wanna get shit for it."

I can't say I'm shocked to hear that but it still stings a little. First all of the girls wanted to know me, and then one gets hurt – by mistake, might I add! – and I'm the black sheep. Knew it would happen sooner or later I guess, but for the first time in a long time, I know I have to make it better.

Just as I move to take a step back, I see Krista's eyes widen and her body stiffen up a little. I follow her gaze and see Faith looking over at us from across the yard. She stares at Krista long and hard before shooting me a glare and starting to head over. Krista jumps up from the table and heads out to a different part of the yard where a couple of the other girls are lounging. She whispers a hasty ‘later' and is gone before I can respond.

When I look back toward Faith I see she's already stopped coming toward me and is headed down the corridor toward her – my – room.

Instead of dwelling on it, I decide to do what I came out here to do: get something to eat. No sooner than I get back on task do I feel something small thwap me in the side of the head. I look down at the ground to find a still-wrapped cereal bar laying there and look up just in time to catch another that was aimed for my head. No one seems to be paying attention except for Diane who's grinning and watching me out of the corner of her eye as she busies herself with the supply boxes. I don't want her to feel she has to hide from me too so I just give her a quick smile and a nod and grab a chair at the nearest table.

I'm barely sitting for five seconds before I hear all of the girls who were at the other end of the table get up and quickly walk away.

Great. That's just great.

How do I even start making it better when it looks like I've run out of all my chances? I have a strange feeling that if I try to talk to Faith I'll have my own nose-whistle to deal with. Sighing, I unwrap and take a big bite of my cereal bar, unaware of anything going on around me until I hear a chair moving on the other side of the table. I look up to find Diane sitting there and offering me a small smile.

"How've you been holding up, Buffy?" she asks, studying my face. Guess she wants to make sure it's not disfigured from what Faith did to me once she had me out of sight of the others in the camp.

"As good as I can be, I guess," I say with a shrug, avoiding her gaze. "You probably don't want to be caught sitting here with me."

"I'll take my chances. Faith knows I'm impartial." There's a short pause before she asks, "So can I guess from your reappearance that you're going to give this another try?"

"That's the plan, I guess. Pretty sure everyone would rather see me gone before they give me another chance though."

"You're probably right, which is why when you make your move? It's gotta be big. Showing up and having breakfast with the girls isn't gonna cut it, Buffy. They don't trust you right now. They know how bad you had it before and they're afraid you're going to drag all of it here with that chip on your shoulder."

I put the cereal bar down and look up, finally meeting her gaze.

"Listen, I'm sorry. They're right; I did have it bad before, worse than bad, and jumping from that situation into this one and trying to function normally isn't an easy transition. I slipped up. Buffy bad, I get it. But I'm trying my damnedest to keep myself together, and I'll try just as hard to be a part of the team."

Diane begins to reply but is cut off by a gruff voice from behind me.

"Sounds like pretty words to me."

I turn around to see Faith standing just on the outside of the tent with her arms crossed over her chest. She's scowling at Diane but Diane stays seated and just smiles politely at her. I try to speak but Faith cuts me off like she did Diane.

"Ya wanna be a part of the team? Prove it. Show the girls that you ain't gonna fuck'em over." She turns and heads out across the courtyard but shouts back over her shoulder, "Your gear's in your room. Better see your ass in the arena tonight or I'm comin' to get ya myself and the words won't be pretty."

I look over at Diane and she just raises her eyebrows a little before putting her palms on the table and sitting up.

"Perfect time to make that move, I'd say."

She walks back across the tent again and I'm left sitting alone with my breakfast and my thoughts. It's time to put up or shut up and I know what I have to do. 

I spend hours sitting in the courtyard, studying each and every one of the girls as they stretch, train, spar, and just mess around. Jo is glaring at me from across the way and I almost have to fight the smile that creeps up on my face when I hear the random whistle sound coming from her nose. I know it's not funny but I'm just so glad she's alive after the way I struck out at her that the whistle is a welcomed reminder that she's not buried in the dirt somewhere because of me.

Most of the girls I haven't met but I see a few that I did, taking time to help out the new girls that just arrived. Faith spent some time with the new arrivals after breakfast and introduced them to a bunch of the girls. I made sure to pay attention this time, learning their names from afar. Faith kept watching me over her shoulder, almost like she was daring me to go and hide away, but I stayed firmly in my seat despite all of the glares I got.

When the sun begins to set and the girls start to break away from the group to go get ready for the arena, I take that as my chance to do the same. Bobb-o meets me halfway back to my room, having spent most of the day keeping an eye on me from across the yard – Faith's orders. He seems excited that I'm out and about and babbles on in a language that definitely isn't meant to be understood by humans. I just smile and nod and slip into my room the first chance that I get.

Guess he's decided that we're friends now though because he follows me in and has a seat on the chair as I prepare to get dressed in my armor. The poor chair creaks and groans under his weight but it never fazes him; he just continues to babble away. I can understand a random word here and there but I'm still not sure what he's talking about. 

And even though he's a demon, I have to give it to the big guy: he's a perfect gentleman. _Gentledemon?_ When he notices me trying to get undressed and keep my modesty, he turns the chair around and faces the wall. The babbling doesn't stop though and I'm really wondering what the hell he's going on about now.

When I'm finally finished getting ready, he stands and opens the door for me, then leads me down a long corridor to the prep area just outside the arena. Girls are walking in left and right, not a single one of them acknowledging me in any way. I stand back against the wall and just bide my time, waiting to be told what we're doing or who we're fighting. 

I continue to watch the girls for about half an hour before Faith finally shows up with Jo and one or two guards. The guards have iron shackles in their hands and I quickly realize that it's going to be another tether match. They start pulling girls from the bunch and matching them up in pairs. Both Faith and Jo make sure they're paired with one of the new girls. I guess they figure it's the best way to protect the younger slayers; an experienced fighter paired with an inexperienced fighter. 

Seeing that the guards are looking for a match for another new girl, I step forward and walk up to him, holding out my wrist. Just as he's about to slap the cool iron over me, Faith's hand shoots out and stops him. Her gaze is locked on me as she yells out for Ha. Ha runs up and holds out her wrist, letting the guard tether her to the younger girl.

"Think again," Faith mumbles to me, then calls out to Krista. 

Krista comes jogging over and stands between Faith and I. She's waiting for Faith to tell her what she wants but all Faith does is look to the guard and nod. Before I realize it, there's an iron chain connecting Krista and I at the wrist.

"What!" Krista yells in disbelief. "Faith, that's not fair!"

"How's that, K? You guys looked pretty buddy-buddy at breakfast this morning."

"I was just being friendly!"

"Yeah? Then hope your new friend returns the favor out in the arena," Faith says. She puts herself in front of me and leans in, speaking low enough so that only I can hear. "Anything happens to her and I'm holdin' you personally responsible. You wanna be friends with these girls? Start by watching the back of the only one who had balls enough to talk to ya." 

She takes a step back and looks into my eyes, trying to figure out if I understand how serious she is. I give her a small nod and glance over at Krista who looks like she's about ready to gnaw off her own arm to get free.

"Everything will be fine, Kris," I tell her and she looks at me like I'm crazy.

"That's easy for you to say," she grumbles as she gives the chain a good yank, making me stumble toward her. "You're not chained to the girl that got Ha mauled and turned Jo into a living breathing train whistle!"

Ha, busy jumping around behind us to get her adrenaline pumping, stops and moves closer to us so that she can talk to Krista.

"She good fighter but make bad decisions. You make decisions, you be okay. She make decisions, you both dead!" She sticks her leg out and shows us both the gnarly scar across her leg from where the tiger had slashed her.

Krista's eyes widen and she turns to me, a new look of determination on her face.

"Listen up, Buffy. I don't care that you're like, ancient in slayer years; we're doing this my way. Just follow me and shut up about it or I'll chop your arm off and fight alone. Slayer healing is wicked but I'm pretty sure it won't make your arm grow back." 

Needless to say I'm not used to threats like that, and I'm definitely not used to letting someone else be in charge, but I know this is a test. Faith is testing me to see if I'm really ready to be a part of the team, even if it means giving up my control, and I have to test myself to see if I can trust anyone but myself.

I'm up for the challenge.

"You point, I fight," I simply reply.

Krista looks at me for a few moments like she doesn't believe me but eventually nods and faces the door in front of us like all of the other slayers. The new girls look so scared; I stopped trying to notice stuff like that a long time ago but I'm keenly aware of it now. Faith and her partner are right in front of us and the young girl is shaking so badly that I'm pretty sure Faith is gonna have to carry her weight around the arena.

Taking a deep breath, I reach out and touch the girl's shoulder, clasping it gently as she turns her head to meet my gaze.

"You'll be okay," I tell her with a nod. "Watch the corners. Faith won't let anything happen to you."

The girl nods quickly then looks over to Faith who offers her a reassuring smile.

"Don't worry kiddo, stick with me and don't make any hero moves, we'll be back here in no time at all laughin' about your first time out and how nervous ya were for nothin'."

When the girl looks ahead again, Faith looks back at me, her face completely serious.

"Don't screw this up."

The sound of the heavy door opening gets everyone's attention and we all face forward, ready to be let out. There are a bunch of girls lingering behind us who aren't shackled; it seems like they're the lucky ones who get to sit this round out. They all file into the arena after us though and sit back at the benches along the side, watching us all carefully. 

I still have no idea who we're fighting so I'm pretty much taken by surprise when we get further out into the arena and see a small horde of hostile demons waiting for us with weapons aplenty. I'd grabbed my trusty longsword on our way out as we passed by the weapons table and Krista grabbed a katana so we were well armed but not very well protected.

"We attack as one and if we get swarmed, we go back to back," Krista says under her breath, never moving her gaze from our foes. "Stay tight with the group and for fucks sake, if you see someone gettin' wailed on, don't stand there and watch."

I nod and take a look around us, trying to figure out what our chances are. Six pairs of slayers and just over two dozen enemies consisting of some of the nastiest demons I've ever had to go up against. Polgaras, Kailiffs, Kungais, a couple M'Fashniks, and a Thraxis or two. 

They growl and posture and try to look as menacing as possible. It's working; even I'm a little bit worried for us, but I don't let that show. I find that Faith is standing just off to my side, noticing the very same things I was just moments ago.

"This isn't some motley crew thrown together; they've been put together for maximum damage," she says under her breath though I know it's directed at me.

No wonder the demons wanted the new girls in the ring tonight; they want bloodshed and figure it'll be easier with them.

"I know," I answer quietly. "The Kailiffs and M'Fashniks are brute force only; the younger girls can handle them. The Kungai shouldn't be a problem; have your girls go for the horn."

"Thanks for the refresher in demonology," Faith says mockingly. "I know what I gotta do, I just hope you do." 

There's no pomp and circumstance tonight, no big screens with Dawn or my friends suffering in the background. They brought us in quick and they want a bloody fight.

Well, they're gonna get one.

The Thraxis demons take their blades and run the edges down their arms and over their chests, letting small rivulets of black blood run over their skin. A few of the slayers notice and start to smile.

"Hey, look; they're making our job easier for us," Jo says.

"How considerate," Krista replies with a grin.

"Don't let them near you," I say, watching as the demons start to charge us. "Don't touch their blood!" 

Krista tries to charge in but I stand firm and the chain goes taut, pulling her back. Her eyes widen she looks up at me with horror written across her face. 

"Faith, she's freakin' out already!"

"No, listen to her!" Faith yells, positioning herself in front of the young slayer she's attached to so she can take the brunt of the damage. "Don't touch the blood!"

A Thraxis demon is just about to close in on Krista so I grab the chain and swing her back, then strike out with my sword. The Thraxis gets impaled on it but he's still struggling, swinging his arms around and trying to touch me. I'm far enough to avoid his arm but some black blood spurts out from his wound and covers my stomach. The burning starts immediately and I can almost hear my skin sizzle. I work frantically to wipe the blood from my skin while Krista watches in horror.

"What the fuck!" she yells as she watches my skin burn. 

"Bet ya weren't expecting that," I say with a grimace. 

We don't have time to dwell though. A Kailiff and a Polgara are circling us, trying to take advantage of my temporarily distracted state.

"Buffy, duck!" Krista yells and lashes out with a high kick just as the Polgara extends the spike from his wrist. Her foot makes contact with his arm and the spike breaks off, making him fall to the ground in pain. She takes advantage and brings her katana down, beheading him in one swift motion.

I'm back on guard just in time to stop the Kailiff getting Krista from behind. I give him a good shove, right into Faith's waiting blade. She looks at me and nods and we quickly go back to the fight.

The demons are going down fairly easily and I don't see any major injuries on any of the girls yet. My stomach is still burning and I'm pretty sure I won't have any skin there by the time the battle is over but I keep fighting. 

Always keep fighting.

Krista and I go back to back as we're charged from two sides by a pair of Kungai demons. At the last minute we step out of the way and the demons collide head first, crushing their horns together so loudly that it hurts my ears. They begin to fall and we're on to the next demon before their bodies even hit the ground.

Krista starts heading toward a M'Fashnik but I freeze when I look over toward Faith and her partner to see a Polgara headed right for the young slayer while Faith is busy trying to keep a Thraxis off of them. I know Krista told me she was in charge, but she also told me to help if someone was in trouble, and someone is in big trouble.

I close the distance between us and them fast and pull the young slayer back just in time for the Polgara's spike to miss her back. He must've seen me coming though because he suddenly turns and plants the spike right into my shoulder. The pain is white hot as it pierces me and comes out my back and I cry out, unable to stop myself.

I drop to my knees and wait for him to finish me off; I don't expect anyone to save me.

But Faith is on him in a second and pushes him back, making the spike slip from my shoulder. The Polgara stumbles backward and right into Jo's blade and that leaves just the one last Thraxis demon and a M'Fashnik that Ha is busy beating into oblivion just a few yards away.

All of the girls turn as one and surround the Thraxis. He tries to lash out but is turned into a living – or should I say dying? – pincushion as they all thrust their blades into him at once. They don't cheer, they don't smile; they ignore the boisterous crowd in the stands and immediately check that everyone is still with us and intact. All eyes fall to me as Krista bends down next to me and ducks under my arm, helping me to my feet.

Faith moves to help but Krista stops her, intent on doing this alone.

"I'll get her to the Doc. Just make sure everyone else is okay," Krista tells her.

Faith looks at her for a moment and then steps back, letting her support me alone. She moves her gaze and looks at me long and hard before giving me a nod. 

Guess that means I finally did something right.


	8. Chapter Eight

Krista helps me all the way to the clinic area like she said she would and hasn't left my side for a minute. Diane saw us approaching from across the yard and had an uncomfortable looking wooden cot all ready for me, along with a disapproving motherly look on her face that I haven't seen in ages. I feel like I'm back in Sunnydale and my Mom is mad because she has to wash demon goo out of my clothes again.

The pain in my shoulder is bad but it's my stomach that's bothering me the most. Most of the skin disintegrated from the Thraxis' acidic blood and it's red, raw, and completely nasty looking. Needless to say, I nearly fall over in pain when Krista helps me up onto the cot.

When I'm finally laying back on it and relaxing as best as possible, Diane comes over and takes a look, her eyes instantly widening. She goes off on some kind of a tirade about not being given the right kind of supplies to treat girls with injuries as bad as mine but I'm sure that the demons that run the place probably don't care. Way they seemed to have it set up with the demons they chose, anyone injured tonight probably should have died. 

Guess I put a little kink in that plan. Let's just hope they don't put a kink in me for actually making it through.

Diane saturates some gauze pads in water and I nearly hit the top of the canvas tent when she starts wiping the black blood from the Thraxis away, along with most of my remaining skin. I clench my eyes shut and lay rigid, completely forgetting about the pain in my shoulder for the time being. 

"Oh damn," Krista says, her voice low. I open my eyes to see Diane winding a melty strip of my skin around the gauze. "That's some fucked up shit right there." 

"Krista," Diane warns.

"No seriously. I think I just puked in my mouth a little."

"Then distract yourself by being useful. Grab some gauze and apply pressure to that shoulder wound until I can get to it."

Krista just gives my stomach – or what's left of it – one last wary glance and then heads around to the other side of the cot so she can get to my shoulder. She doesn't look any less grossed out than she did a minute before, but at least she's not talking about puke any longer. She grabs two handfuls of gauze and then shoots me an apologetic look before holding them on either side of the hole. Tightly.

"I'm beginning to think this is all payback for the last couple of weeks," I say between clenched teeth.

"Sorry Buffy," Diane apologizes. "We ran out of pain meds a while back so we have to do this one on adrenaline alone."

"And when the adrenaline runs out?"

"Whiskey. Lots of it. Or at least what's left after we disinfect your stomach."

I can only groan and rest my head back in response. My eyes stay shut for the remaining time while they work on me and I concentrate on trying to heal. I know it's not about mind over matter but I figure that a bit of effort on my part can't hurt. It's not long before I feel the burning splash of whiskey on my stomach that makes me sit up with my eyes wide. Diane doesn't say anything; she merely hands me the bottle and gives me a little nod.

I'm not a drinker by any means but I'm willing to try anything if it'll take the edge off now. The glass bottle feels foreign against my lips and I cringe when the whiskey pours over my tongue. Drinking hard liquor was never a great taste bud experience for me before and is still isn't now, but the warm blur that starts to kick in after a few gulps instantly makes it worthwhile.

The raspy breath that leaves my mouth when I pull the bottle from my lips is due in part to the burning warmness in my throat and stomach and also to the prodding that Diane is doing to my shoulder. She's holding out her hand and I know what she's waiting for. I take one last chug from the bottle then hand it to her, waiting for the pain to start again.

She pours the whiskey over my shoulder but the burn is less intense this time. Don't get me wrong, it still hurts like a hurty thing but the warm blur from the whiskey is helping.

"What you did out there tonight," Krista begins, trying to distract me, "it was good, Buffy."

"Yeah, real good. Explain that to my shoulder. And my stomach."

And my ego. 

"Yeah, but you're alive, and so is the newbie that you saved. And hey, have you noticed how melty my skin isn't? I charged right in there and you pulled me back, took the proverbial bullet."

"I couldn't let you get hurt," I say, the words feeling foreign as they slip from my lips. 

Even if they felt foreign, they were obviously right. Krista smiles at me and then looks over at Diane who has a knowing smile on her face too. They both look kind of proud but neither of them seems to want to spoil the moment because Diane gets back to work and Krista gets back to making faces at whatever Diane is doing.

"Your slayer healing is doing its job," Diane says as she inspects my shoulder. "The bleeding has stopped and now you just need some time."

"And maybe a shower," I throw out there. 

I know I need to rest but my muscles hurt from being so tense and I'm still covered in blood and gore. Not exactly the kind of stuff you want to lie around and marinate in.

"That can probably be arranged. We need to make sure there's no more Thraxis blood on you anywhere, and cleaning up some of your own would be a good place to start. Krista? We'll need to ask Bobb-o about a quick run to the showers and we'll need to help Buffy get there." 

Walking and moving. Not good for the pain factor. Diane must realize this so she holds out the bottle of whiskey to me with an apologetic grimace on her face. I reach out to grab it but someone intercepts it before I can get my hands on it. We all look over to see Faith standing there, taking us all by surprise with her sudden presence. She looks me over and frowns when her gaze reaches my stomach.

"Pretty sure there's supposed to be some skin there, yunno . . . keeping your insides from going outside." She takes a quick chug from the bottle and hands it over to me.

"Explain that to the Thraxis."

"Would, but pretty sure ya turned him into a shish-kabob."

I take a deep pull on the bottle and hiss as the liquid burns down my throat and into my stomach. When I'm done I hand it to Diane and she puts the cap back on, watching our interaction carefully. I think we're all still a bit unsure how Faith is going to react, even Faith herself. She's just staring at me, looking like she's trying to figure something out.

"Is the young girl okay?" I finally ask, unable to take her silence any longer.

"Mel? She's five by five, which is more than I can say for you." 

"She's done bleeding all over the place so we're gonna see if Bobb-o can sneak her into the showers," Krista says, trying to move past Faith.

Faith grabs her arm and stops her though. Krista looks worried for a moment before she realizes that Faith is giving her a little smile. It silently says she's out of the doghouse for speaking to me earlier. 

"Hold up, K. Go be with the girls. I'll take Buffy-duty now."

"Are you sure?" Krista asks, looking slightly worried. I think she's still not sure what Faith is up to. "I don't mind, Faith. I'll stay with her. It's no hassle."

I offer her a grateful smile but Faith waves her off toward the rest of the girls in the camp who are anxiously trying to see what's going on. Krista takes one more glance at me and then heads off toward the yard, obviously not wanting to step on Faith's toes. Faith watches her leave and then thanks Diane for giving me the ‘good juju.' She takes another look at me before moving to my other side and ducking under my non-injured shoulder. I still hiss out in pain when she lifts me from the cot but the pain is much less intense than it was a short while ago.

We don't say much of anything as she helps me walk back toward my room where Bobb-o is waiting just outside. He moves to open the door for us – Gentledemon that he is – but when Faith nods her head toward a different corridor, he quickly catches on and starts leading us down it.

There are no demon guards down here now, just the three of us walking slowly toward the shower room. Faith is supporting most of my weight and I'm completely grateful for it. The post-battle rush is fading and all I can feel is the slow throb of pain and weariness. I want to collapse; to lie down and rest and just let my body mend, but the prospect of a warm shower keeps me going.

When we make it to the shower room, Bobb-o stands outside the door while Faith and I go inside. I'm relieved that he's not coming in with us because I'm pretty sure I have no modesty left in me right now. I want this armor gone, I want hot water, and I don't want to worry about him checking out my humanly goods in the process.

Faith leaves me at the doorway that leads from the entrance room to the showers and turns on two of the shower heads so that the water has a chance to warm up. I guess that means she'll be joining me.

Fantastic.

The look on my face must give away my thoughts because she smiles as she starts stripping off her shoes and shin guards. 

"Ya didn't really think I was gonna lug your ass all the way down here and not get cleaned up too, did ya?" 

"Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of, ‘Oh god, the pain, the horror; there goes bikini season'." 

She chuckles and shakes her head, then comes over to help me before stripping down any further. I lean against a tiled wall as she removes my shoes and shin guards. Her hands are rough but warm and we simultaneously shiver when she touches my skin. 

Now, this isn't something that I've ever readily admitted to Faith, but she was right years back when she spoke about post-slayage side effects. They've been easy to suppress for the past year and a half because I've been on my own, but they've suddenly come rushing back to me. Faith's eyes won't meet mine but she works slowly and methodically as she removes my armor, her warm hands blazing trails over my skin. She looks almost mesmerized but neither of us speaks. 

I turn my head to the side when I feel her fingertips dip under the sides of my panties, but then she's gone and across the room, removing her own armor quietly and effortlessly; like she's done it a thousand times before. She probably has.

Finishing what she started, I remove my panties and toss them onto the pile of my clothes and armor and step under the warm spray like it will shield me from her eyes. I don't think I've felt anything as heavenly in ages and I close my eyes, losing myself in the warmth. 

There's no Herbal Essences or loofas or body gels but I still feel like I'm washing away a year's worth of grime. Small trickles of blood wash down my body but eventually the water runs clear. I can't bring myself to look over at Faith – hello nakedness – but when I eventually take a sideways glance over at her, I can see that she's doing the same. I know there's no room for modesty in a situation like this but I turn my back to her anyhow and continue showering.

That's when I hear a soft gasp from her and know that I've messed up. I forgot myself for a moment and now it's too late to pretend that she didn't see. That she doesn't know. I move to turn back around but her hands soft on my sides stop me from turning.

"Jesus Christ," she says under her breath as she looks at the marred skin of my back, dropping to her knees in the pooling water. 

I don't even know exactly what it looks like but I know it has to be bad. The guards at the last camp weren't exactly gentle when they beat me. Chains, whips, blades . . . anything they could use to weaken me, they did, and when you curl up in a ball to protect yourself, your back takes the brunt of the damage.

There was one time when I couldn't lay on my back for almost a week. My skin was completely shredded and there was no one to bandage or clean it. Dervin had brought me extra water but all I could do was pour it over my shoulder and down my back, hoping to wash away some of the gore. It can't have healed prettily and judging by Faith's reaction, I know I probably look like some kind of hideous monster.

She touches random spots on my back, making me squirm with discomfort and something else I'm not willing to entertain. She keeps whispering her surprise in the form of curse words and I hang my head and close my eyes, reliving each and every one of those scars as she touches them.

"What did they do to you, B?" she whispers, not expecting an answer.

The words fall quietly from my lips, "Whatever they wanted." 

I know she's wondering how she didn't see the scars before but my long hair hides them pretty conveniently. It's easy not to notice them when there's so much other pain around every day.

Her hands still on my hips and I can feel her breath on my skin. Her fingertips graze up my sides then trickle down my back like a waterfall. My breath catches in my throat and it feels like I can inhale or exhale forever. Nothing prepares me for the soft press of lips I feel next right on my lower back, but then Faith is gone and I'm left standing here breathing shakily. I don't turn around to see where she went; I just turn off the water and head off to the side of the room where I spot two gray towels. Grabbing one of them, I quickly return to where I undressed earlier and start to dry off.

The terrycloth is rough and scratchy against my skin and I have to clench my teeth together to keep from whimpering in pain. I don't know how I'm going to bend to get re-dressed, but then Faith is at my side and helping me to dry off with the second towel. Our eyes meet and we both pause. 

Sometimes more can be said with silence than with words, and when Faith nods once at me, I know that we've finally found a middle ground. We understand one another now; I know what she's protecting here, and she knows what I was trying to protect myself from. 

"C'mon, let's get you dressed," she says finally. 

She puts on my basic clothing but leaves the armor piled on the floor. It feels pretty gross to have to re-dress in dirty clothing but at least I can rest easy knowing that I washed them in the sink just the day before. It's not like we have a big wardrobe to change into, so it's pretty much the same outfit day after day. 

When I'm fully dressed and covered head to toe in a nice pink blush, Faith walks over to her own pile of clothes and finishes drying off before quickly dressing. My gaze is fixed on her the entire time, ignoring the nakedness and realizing for the first time just how many new tattoos she has. I'd seen a few peeking out from her clothes and a few when I saw her in the shower before, but now I had the full view, noticing more than ten or twelve new pieces of art. 

"Are those all new?" I ask, my voice suddenly raspy. 

She looks over to me, then down at the tattoos she sees me staring at. Her fingers unconsciously creep over her abdomen where there's some kind of a script, along with a tribal marking. 

"For the most part," she says blankly, her eyes fixed on some far off place now. 

"Did you do them yourself?" 

I start walking slowly toward her, watching her face as she continues to stare off at some point on the floor across the room. 

"Just one. Then we got some new girls in here. One of them, Shy, she's Native American. Saw the tat I did myself and commented on it. Said that her grandfather taught her some kind of ancient tattooing technique and that she could do it better than I could. Been my go-to girl since." 

"They're beautiful," I say, letting my fingertips trace over a big tribal dragon that she has on her upper thigh. 

"They're reminders," she corrects me, finally snapping out of her stupor and looking at my face. "People I've lost, friends that are gone." 

I look at the tattoo on her stomach and read the names Rachel and Jamie underneath it. There's a band around her arm and there are several names hidden between the tribal design. In fact, all of the tattoos I can see have names in or around them. 

They're Faith's way of dealing with those that she lost; that she couldn't save. 

The dragon is different though. There are no names or writing of any kind. It looks like he's flying, and there's a tiny figure standing down just below him. 

"What's this one?" I ask, letting my fingertips run the length of the dragon's back. 

Her gaze drifts down to the tattoo that I can't seem to stop touching. The ink is black and smooth and looks professionally done, and I'm only just wondering exactly how Shy does work this good without an actual tattoo studio. 

"It was during the first weeks here," she says, her voice quiet as she stares at the dragon. "Everyone was recuperating and trying to get their bearings. We were being fed and they let Diane take care of anyone who was in bad shape from the transport, but they didn't tell us anything. We didn't know why we were here or what the hell they were doing with us. 

"It was gettin' late one night and we heard the shrieks and shouts of demons coming from far and wide. We were pretty sure they were gonna come in the camp and trample us but they never did. Some guards came in and took a buncha us out to the field." She takes a second to chuckle to herself. "Still kinda looked like a football field back then. We didn't have any armor or protection; they just tossed us in there as we were. 

"Needless to say, I think we were all pissin' ourselves when we saw this big hulking dragon in there. Ten seconds in and he was breathin' fire at us, makin' us all spread out in different directions. Girls tried to hide but he got them first. A few girls were followin' me around, thought I had a plan. Guess I did; it was to stay alive. 

"So me and these three girls – Jo, Rachel, and Jamie - we got behind the dragon while he was after some other girls. We tore up a bench and grabbed whatever we could from the scraps that could pass for weapons. Climbed right up the fucker's back and started beatin' the shit outta him. 

"Only the four of us walked outta there that night. Never saw the bodies of the girls that were left on the field and I think that kinda fucked us up a little. We didn't wanna leave our sisters out there, yunno? 

"So more girls were brought in as time went by and things got better and better. The demons that run the place realized they'd run outta girls of they kept killin' them, so they treat us pretty good. We fight demons, good and bad, and every now and again we fight each other because they need to keep the crowds entertained. 

"Girls saw some kinda leader in me. Bobb-o was assigned to watch over me. Even got my own room. Felt like solitary though; hated bein' alone. Came outside with a tat one day. ‘No Escape' was written on my thigh and the girls got real down then. They were countin' on me or something. Decided then and there that I'd be their rock. 

"Then I met Shy and she offered to fix up my tat. Put the dragon over the tat I drew as a memorial to the girls we lost that first time. Jo, Rachel, and Jamie got the same tat done too. And that's the story of my ink." 

"What about Rachel and Jamie?" I ask, pointing to the tattoo on her stomach. 

She gives me a sad smile and then looks down at it. "That's a story for another time." 

I want to know more, about what happened to them and when, but she's not ready to talk about that right now. Offering her a nod, I look back down at the inked dragon. So much story behind one little tattoo. I reach out to touch it again but she grabs my hand and gives it a tight squeeze before letting it drop back to my side. 

"You keep tryin' to feel me up and I'm gonna have to start chargin' ya, B." 

Shaking my head a little, I come out of my stupor and look up at her with a slight blush burning my cheeks. 

"I'm . . . I'm not . . ." 

"I know," she says dismissively. "C'mon, let's get back to the camp. If I know the girls, they're waitin' to start any celebration cos they're probably worried I'm in here beatin' ya or something." 

She quickly finishes dressing and steps back under my arm, helping me walk across the shower room and out the door where Bobb-o is waiting for us. My stomach is on fire and my shoulder is throbbing worse than before, but when Faith stops to let me off at my room, I hesitate and look at her for a moment. 

"Do you think . . ." I pause to take a breath and she watches me with a curious gaze. "Do you think they'd mind if I join in? I don't . . . I don't want to be alone." 

The corners of her lips pull up in the smallest of smiles and she shakes her head. She doesn't say anything, but instead bypasses my room and leads us out toward the courtyard. There's a small fire burning in the center and I can't wait to feel its warmth. The cool night air is kissing my still damp skin and I shiver, but Faith is warm and strong against me; not letting me go for a moment. There are girls gathered around the fire, talking animatedly among themselves. 

". . . and then Buffy was charging at the Polgara without even raising her sword. She got Melanie out of the way and took a barb to the shoulder like it was nothing. There was blood spurting everywhere; it was wicked gross." 

A couple of the new girls grimace as Krista relives the battle. I see Melanie sitting on the ground with her knees tucked pulled up against her chest, her eyes wide when she realizes again just how close she came to dying. 

"But then Faith and Jo were there in a second and finished the Polgara off nice and quick. Poetry in motion."

A bunch of girls start hooting and hollering and patting Jo on the back. Jo looks pretty proud but then she notices Faith and I approaching. The girls follow her gaze and then there are around sixty sets of eyes locked on us. 

"Hey Buffy, how're ya feeling?" Krista asks easily, giving up her chair for me when Faith helps me over to her. 

The rest of the girls seem like they're not sure exactly what to do or how to react; they were told to stay away and now here I am, being helped by Faith and publicly addressed by Krista. 

"Never been better," I say as I try to get comfortable in the chair. 

One of the girls brings another chair over for Faith and she flips it around so that she's straddling it backwards and facing the fire. Her arms rest on the back of the chair and she smiles playfully. 

"Oh yeah, you're five by five for sure, blondie. One of you girls wanna come over and give her a raspberry on her stomach? Show ‘em, B." 

I look at her for a second and when she nods, I shrug and lift up my shirt to reveal my red and raw abdomen. The girls gasp and groan and there's a chorus of "I'll pass" as a few girls get closer to inspect it. That's when a few of them start showing me their own scars and wounds with enthusiasm, talking over one another as they start to recount their battle tales. 

There's nothing like comparing battle scars to bring a group of people together. And for the first time – with the exception of Ha and Faith – none of their scars are my fault. I haven't hurt any of them, and now they seem to trust enough that I won't try to in the future. 

I notice Jo talking to Faith out of the corner of my eye and it looks like they're arguing, but I can't hear their words over the voices of the young slayers before me. I catch Krista's gaze from across the fire and she just smiles at me. 

I'm officially welcomed into my new slayer family.


	9. Chapter Nine

I don't know exactly what time it is or how I got here, but I find myself walking down the familiar corridor that leads to the showers. The guards are standing on either side of the hall, still as statues as I pass by. They don't meet my gaze which is actually just fine by me; the fewer demons I have to remember, the better.

Time seems to be moving by slowly as the door to the shower room finally enters my vision. There's a sparse flow of steam coming out from under the bottom of the door and I can't help but wonder who might be in there using up all of the hot water. Last I remember, everyone was gathering around the fire in the yard and drifting off to sleep, one by one. 

There are no guards stationed at the door so I push it open and step in quietly, listening for any signs of life besides the sounds of falling water on tiled floors. It's vague but I can hear some kind of tapping sound coming from the shower area just around the tiled separator wall, along with deep breathing. 

Curiosity gets the best of me and I slowly walk further into the room until I can peek around the corner and into the showers. The entire area is filled with steam so thick I can barely see through it. All of the shower heads are pouring streams of hot water but I can't see anyone actually standing under them. That's when I see something out the corner of my eye. The slightest of a movement. Fully on guard, I take slow steps toward the corner of the room and eventually the steam thins out enough so that I can see two people sitting on stools facing one another. 

I instantly recognize Faith who has her head pressed back against the wall, eyes closed and the tiniest of a grimace on her lips. The tapping gets louder as I approach and though the other person pays me no attention, I can see her hands moving in time with the taps. I don't recognize her but as I finally get close enough to see what she's doing, I realize who it is. 

"Another tattoo?" I ask, my voice feeling foreign as the words leave my lips. 

Both Faith and Shy look over to me, but Shy quickly goes back to work leaving only Faith gazing at me with the corner of her lips curling up into a grin. The smile falters just a bit when Shy taps the wooden stick against her chest again but she tries not to let her discomfort show. 

"It's about time for another," she says, her eyes sparkling as she looks up into mine. 

"But I thought that you only get them as memorials. No one died." 

"Didn't they?" 

I take another step closer, trying my best to see what design Shy is making. It's on Faith's chest, right over her heart, and it's tribal just like all of the others. I have to squint to see the name under it but suddenly the steam is gone and it's clear as day. 

_Buffy._

Taking a step back, my eyes widen and meet Faith's gaze again. She's grinning more now that she realizes I know what the tattoo is. 

"What is this?" I ask through clenched teeth. "Why are you getting that? I'm not dead!" 

"Maybe not on the outside," she purrs. "Don't worry B; you'll always be in my heart. Or, on it, actually." 

She and Shy start to laugh together, watching me as I take several steps back from them. Water from the shower heads rains down on me and I wipe my hands over my face to clear the water from my eyes. When I look down at my hands, they're covered in blood. 

"Buffy!" 

My eyes shoot open and I gasp, taking in my surroundings. I'm back at the camp around the now smoking fire and girls are quickly getting up and running off toward different tents. Krista is at my side, watching me intently with a soft hand on my arm. 

"Buffy, you were dreaming," she says, concern etched across her features 

I feel water splashing down on my face and I realize that it's raining and everyone is taking cover. The sky is midnight blue and the stars are dim, and when I look really hard I can see faint traces of pink and orange out in the distance. It'll be dawn soon. 

"C'mon, let's get out of the rain." 

She holds out her hand to me and I take it without hesitation, needing to cling to something real. There's no sign of Faith anywhere as she helps me run toward a canvas tent and I have to convince myself that it was all a dream; that she's not in the shower getting a tattoo with my name on it, and that I'm not dead. 

Once inside the tent, I see six other girls settling down onto small makeshift beds. There are two left at the far corner so Krista leads us over and sits us down, not noticing or not caring that I haven't let go of her hand. 

"Bad dream?" she finally asks after a few minutes when my breathing returns to normal. I nod and she offers me a comforting smile. "We all get ‘em. Just gotta remember that it's a dream and a dream only; it doesn't have power over you." 

I know she's right but I'm still shaken up. I'm not sure if it was a slayer dream or just a good old fashioned nightmare but I can't wait to find Faith and see what she has to say about it. 

"Try to get some more sleep," Krista says as she rests back on the dusty bedding, finally taking her hand back. "Just try, Buffy. We're all right here if you need us." 

I glance around the tent and at the other girls who are trying to look as reassuring as possible after hearing Krista's words. They wait until I lay back before doing the same, all trying to make sure that I'm okay before settling in. 

Despite my inner turmoil, I don't feel alone. I feel less scared. Closing my eyes, I drift off to sleep and hope that the dreams won't return but know I won't be alone when I wake if they do. 

A couple hours of dreamless sleep pass and I wake up to find the bright morning sun shining in through the entrance of the tent. The girls are awake and talking softly among themselves but they all quiet down when they notice I'm awake. 

"Welcome back to the world of the living," Krista says, smiling when she sees the stress from last night gone from my face. 

I feel well-rested for a change. Maybe being around all these girls kept the dreams away. In any case, I shoot them all an appreciative smile as I sit up carefully. My stomach and shoulder hurt but not as badly as last night. In fact, they feel pretty good, all things considered. I lift my arm up and test my injured shoulder, surprised at how much more I can move it around today. 

"Gotta love that slayer healing," I say, my voice raspy and low. 

The girls smile at me and begin to stand and stretch. It seems like they'd been awake for a while but didn't get up until just now. I don't think they wanted to leave me alone here. 

"If we head over to the caf now we still might be able to get some breakfast," Krista says as she stretches her arms up over her head. Her tattered shirt rides up a little and I can see a small tattoo near her hip. She sees me notice it and gets a little closer so I can inspect it easier. 

Just like Faith's, it's a tribal design and there's a name written under it. 

"Jessa. She was my best friend. We were here together from right near the beginning." 

"I'm sorry." 

She looks thoughtful for a moment but then smiles and offers me a hand to help me up. I gratefully accept it and pull myself up, grimacing just a little at the tightness over my abdomen. 

Despite the fact that I was able to shower last night, I feel gritty from the dust and slimy from my wounds. I should probably check on my stomach too, make sure that it hasn't fallen out or anything. I stop walking when we approach the eating area and Krista turns to face me, waiting for some kind of an explanation. 

"I'm gonna head to my – Faith's – room really quickly and get cleaned up. Maybe Bobb-o can wrassle me up a different shirt too because this one's pretty gruesome now." 

We both look down and see traces of blood and yuck all over it and Krista nods in understanding. 

"You want me to come with?" 

"I think I can manage," I tell her. She nods and starts to turn away but I stop her with a soft hand on her arm. "I never had a chance to thank you. For . . . everything." 

Krista smiles but doesn't say anything. She holds my gaze for a second and then she's off under the tent with the other girls, trying to scrounge up whatever food she can gather. I watch her for a moment longer before heading off toward my room. I go slow and steady with measured steps, careful not to exert myself too much. 

I can see Bobb-o standing outside the door from far down the corridor. He's kind of hard to miss, all four-hundred pounds of him. He sees me coming and starts waving excitedly, then decides to meet me halfway. 

"Bee better?" 

"Yes, but Bee dirty. What are the chances that a big and powerful demon such as yourself might be able to get his hands on a new shirt for me?" 

His face lights up animatedly and I'm starting to realize that he's pretty easily won over. No wonder he's so close to Faith; she's a great sweet-talker. He doesn't say anything; he just shuffles off down the hall to what looks like some kind of a supply closet and disappears inside. 

Since I know I'll probably have some time before he's back, I move to step into my room but that's when I hear voices. I get closer and instantly recognize them as Faith and Jo's, and it sounds to me like they're arguing. 

"It's not a good idea." 

"It's not an idea, Jo, it's a reality. B's here to stay, so she's gonna be a part of us." 

"And what if she pulls another stunt like she did with my nose?" 

"That ain't gonna happen. She's found herself again. We keep her from gettin' lost and everything's gonna be fine." 

"Nothing is gonna be fine!" Jo yells and I take a couple steps back without realizing it. "Faith, you were here; you know what's gonna happen." 

"Maybe it won't this time," Faith says quietly, and I wish I could see her face right now. 

"It will and you know it. A ship can only have one captain, Faith. We've already seen what happens when there are too many. Krista and I aren't you and Buffy, but we're leaders too. The girls in the camp recognize that so it means that the demons will see it too if they haven't already." 

"Things change. They ain't had a problem with the three of us, so why would they do it again now?" 

"Because things are getting desperate," Jo says and I can almost hear the desperation in her voice. 

I don't know what the hell is going on but now that I know it involves me, I'm almost scared to find out. 

"Faith, there are more girls and less supplies," she continues, not yelling any longer. "If we're feeling the pinch in the camp, they're feeling it outside the camp. Things are gonna start getting bad. Worse than they are right now." 

"Things here are just fine," Faith replies and I can tell that she's speaking with her teeth clenched tightly. 

"Yeah? Tell that to Jamie and Rachel, and everyone we've lost since them." 

Suddenly the door flies open and Jo comes storming out, giving me a death glare as she passes. I look back into the room and catch Faith's gaze just for a moment before the heavy door closes between us. She looked more troubled than I've seen her look in years but I know she won't tell me about it. Not when it involves me, especially since she's trying so hard to have me be a part of everything here. 

"Bee okay?" 

I turn around quickly to find Bobb-o standing there with a small t-shirt in his big meaty hands. His smile is gone and he looks just as troubled as Faith now. I hesitate for a moment and then paste on a fake smile for him. 

"Yeah, Bee fine. Thanks for the shirt, Bobb-o. You're the man." 

I take the shirt from his hands and give him one last quick smile before walking toward the camp and away from my room. Faith isn't ready to face me just yet, and I'm not sure I'm ready to hear her tell me I'm the reason for all of their problems. 

Instead I take a small detour into one of the communal restrooms and quickly change my soiled shirt. My stomach looks surprisingly better but it's gonna take a good week before it's back to normal. When I'm done getting changed I wash up quickly and head out to the camp, hoping that I might be able to snag a quick bite to eat before all of the food is gone. 

Most of the girls are still in the food tent, talking animatedly and eating small cereal bars and boxes of dry cereal. Sure enough the weak coffee is gone but I guess that's what I get for not being up early enough to beat the other girls to it. There are only a few tables and not many seats but Krista flags me over to the empty seat beside her. 

For a brief second I think about what Jo said and wonder if I'm bad for everyone here, but with the excited smile on Krista's face I can't help but move over to her anyhow. 

"I saved you some chow," she says, tossing me a couple cereal bars. 

I tear into them easily and take a big bite, giving her a crumb-filled but appreciative smile. 

"These would be so much better with some coffee," I mumble out between bites. 

"Thought you might say that." 

She slides a small cup over my way and I nearly fall over when I realize that it's coffee. My face must be comical because she laughs at me and shakes her head. 

"God, Faith was right. You are a coffee fiend." 

I take a big gulp and sigh happily. 

"Coffee, tea, mocha, cappuccino; anything in the caffeine family, really." 

We make small talk for a while and it seems like the entire tent full of girls go quiet when Jo walks in and up to the main table. She grabs a couple cereal bars and then walks out without saying a word to anyone, going out into the yard to eat alone. 

"What's her problem?" Laura asks and a few of the girls at the table with Krista and I start grumbling. 

"She doesn't like playing second fiddle to Buffy," Hazel says. "She knows that Faith and Buff have history and thinks she's being replaced." 

"I'm not replacing anyone," I say quietly. "I'm just trying to figure everything out again." 

"Yeah, well Jo can be as big a bitch as she wants; Faith isn't gonna play that game with her," Laura says. 

The girls laugh but Krista doesn't; she sits a bit straighter and I can almost feel the power of the slayer radiating from her. The other girls must too because they all look over at her and she meets each of their gazes before speaking. 

"Say what you want but Jo's just trying to protect everyone. She knows she's not top dog and that everything comes down to Faith, but that doesn't stop her from worryin' about all of us. Show her a little bit of respect, yeah?" 

The rest of the girls stop their laughing and snickering and go back to eating in silence. I guess I kind of get what Jo meant when she said that she and Krista are leaders. Krista takes a back seat when it comes to Faith, but she has a good grip on the rest of the girls when she needs to. 

We sit in silence a little while longer, the girls not wanting to get into any more trouble and me lost in thoughts about Faith and Jo's argument. I don't know how forthcoming Faith will be if I ask her so I decide to go for broke and see what I can find out from everyone else. 

"What happened to Rachel and Jamie?" 

Suddenly everyone at the table is looking up at me, completely silent. They look to one another and then all eyes settle on Krista. I guess they're waiting to see if she's going to answer me or not. Krista puts the rest of her cereal bar back down and wipes her hands off on her pants before standing up and lifting her shirt to reveal the same tattoo Faith has on her stomach. Under it is written the names Rachel and Jamie, and when I look up to Krista's face, I see that she's staring at it, smiling sadly. 

"They were our friends. Our sisters," she says as she sits back down, her voice quiet so that everyone under the tent can't listen in. "They were here with Faith from the beginning before we all arrived; the only ones that survived the dragon beside Faith and Jo." 

"Faith told me about that day," I say quietly. 

"Then you know what they went through together, and you can probably understand that it brought them crazy close together. The girls that didn't have to fight, they looked up to the four of them. When new girls were brought in, they told us all about it. We all looked up to them. And they trained us, and taught us to be brave and strong." 

"Taught us how to fight," Hazel adds. 

"How to be slayers," Laura clarifies. 

"The four of them were inseparable," Krista continues. "They pretty much had an army of young girls under them that would've done anything they said. Not that they ever would've told us to do anything dangerous, but the threat was there. Even separate they thought alike, and the demons that run the place caught onto that really quickly. 

"As you probably know, it's not always about fighting demons here. Now and again they have us fight each other; always a weak girl paired with a strong girl. But with Faith, Jo, Rachel and Jamie, they knew they couldn't let them all be in charge like that. So they arranged a special battle. A real show for the spectators. 

"They tethered Faith to Jo and Jamie to Rachel . . . and they told them to fight. Two of them weren't walking out of the arena, and they knew that. They cried, and they fought hard like slayers do. You don't need to know the gory details. Faith and Jo made it. Rachel and Jamie didn't." 

"Oh God," I mumble, looking down at the table as I realize how horrible that had to be for them. They'd come together as a team to make it through their first battle, and they fought as enemies during their final battle. 

"Yeah," Krista says quietly, looking down at her lap. "So Jo was scared when the girls started looking up to me, and now she's terrified because you're one of the original two slayers; everyone here looks up to you, even Faith. When you locked yourself away, Jo felt safe again; you weren't part of us. But now you've proven that you're here and that you're on our team, and she's afraid that it's all going to happen again." 

"I don't want to lead anyone," I say and they all look up at me. "I've been the leader and I've been the loner; I'm just trying to find a middle ground. Faith is the boss, and Jo and Kris can hold the reins too. I'll just fall into line and there won't be any problems." 

"It doesn't matter what you want, or where you think you fit in, Buffy," Kris says. "The guards, the crowd; they've all seen you fight. They saw you save me, and Mel, and then watched you take one for the team. Earned yourself a bunch of fans in the camp and a watchful eye from the guys in charge." 

"And you guys are gonna earn yourself an ass-kicking from the alpha bitch if ya keep tryin' to scare B," comes a voice from behind us. 

Faith strolls over to the table and all of the girls except Krista jump up and make their way into the courtyard, claiming innocence as they cartwheel and jump over one another. She has a seat on the other side of Krista, effectively keeping her between the two of us. 

Krista looks a bit uncomfortable and stands up, grabbing a cereal bar from the table before smiling down at Faith. 

"As much as being in the middle of a Buffy and Faith sandwich sounds wicked as hell, I don't wanna be around for the doom and gloom talk. Mind if I take off?" 

Faith leans back in her chair and holds her arms out, indicating the space around us. 

"Ain't nothin' but sunshine and roses over here, K, but go if ya gotta," she teases, then watches Krista walk off until she's outta sight. "She's a good kid, B, but whatever she told ya and whatever ya heard between me and Jo? Just forget about it. We're all good here and everything's five by five." 

I hear the effort behind her words and know that she's trying to convince herself as much as she is me, but I know the real truth now. 

"Faith, the situation is hardly five by five. I think we're barely two by two right now, but it's bearable. I don't want to mess that up for anyone here." 

"You're not messin' anything up, B. You're gonna make it better. Girls lose hope every now and then, yunno? Food gets scarce or we lose someone and morale gets low. But now they got the slayer that started it all right here with them and they feel like we got some kinda secret weapon on our side. They're gonna try more, fight harder, and we're gonna be okay." 

She's definitely sounding more optimistic but I know the situation now. I know what's at risk, and I feel like I need to at least offer to make things right. 

"I asked the girls why Jo's so mad and they said that she's afraid things are gonna get worse because there's more than a handful of power players in the camp now," I say, avoiding the part about Jamie and Rachel. I'm gonna let Faith tell that part to me on her own time. 

"Well, Jo don't know shit," Faith says. "Don't matter if there's two of us or ten of us. The guards always watch, and they're gonna do with us what they want. You being here, B? Ain't gonna change that. Only thing it's gonna do is make the girls stronger, so stop listening to these blockheads already, alright?" 

And though she's acting casually, I can see how hard she's trying to convince me – and herself – that everything will be okay. The whole time I've been here I've been impressed with how good she looks, strong and sure. But now I can see that she's tired, and stressed, and keeping herself together for the sake of everyone else here. 

Well, if she can pretend she's okay, so can I. 

"Alright, Faith. Everything will be fine. I get it." 

She watches my face for a few moments and then she smiles, letting some of the tension in her body roll off of her. Before I can stop her, she reaches across the table and grabs my cup, then takes a big chug of my coffee. I'm torn between crying and slapping her but I settle for kicking her in the shin and stealing my cup back before she splutters all over it. 

"Fighting dirty, I see," she says as she rubs her shin. "Now that's the Buffy I remember." 

She winks at me and I can't help but smile as I take one last sip of my now lukewarm coffee. I know she was joking but it's true; I'm starting to feel more like the old me every day.


	10. Chapter Ten

Only a week has passed since I was skinned, shished, and kebabed and I'm pretty much fully healed. The skin on my stomach is a bit pink and shiny, but hey – any skin is good skin. I've been doing all kinds of exercises for my shoulder every day and Faith and Krista have been sure to push me extra hard to use it.

It's kind of amazing, actually. Faith was right when she said that things at the camp were okay and that they could only get better with my being here. The younger girls seem so motivated to learn and get better. They're working out more often, pushing themselves harder, and Faith says it's all thanks to me. 

I don't like to think of it that way, but if it helps distract them and keeps their hope up? Sure, I can go along with that. 

I know this is a different Buffy than most people have seen for the last year, but I guess it just feels kind of good to get a sense of my old self again. I was so alone for so long, and granted that was my own unwise decision . . . I don't know; it just feels good to be back. To be the Buffy that people look up to, not fear. 

Not that they actually have to look up to me; Faith never fails to remind me that I'm one of the shortest girls here. 

I could live without the vertically-challenged jokes. 

Jo has done her best to avoid damn near everyone in the camp. She's become a loner and I know that's my fault, but everyone keeps trying to make my guilt disappear on that one. It's her choice, they tell me, and she'll snap out of it when she's good and ready. 

But you know what? It was my choice to be alone too and it took a LOT for me to snap out of it. It took friends. And if Jo won't let anyone close, she's going to be alone for a long while. 

I tried to reach out to her yesterday. While everyone else was eating under the caf tent, I took my package of Pop-Tarts and sat next to her in the yard. She didn't even jump up and walk away, telling me to fuck off like she usually did. 

I blame Faith for the mouth on that girl. 

Instead she sat there, staring down at her knees as she rested back on her palms. When she realized I wasn't going anywhere, she looked over and just watched me for a few minutes. I didn't say anything; I'm still not quite back to 100% socially adjusted Buffy yet. The silence was good though. It did more than words could. She finally opened her mouth to speak but then something caught her eye. She looked up at one of the towers and I followed her gaze to see several guards watching us intently. 

I heard her scuffle to get up and then her quickly retreating footsteps across the yard. There was no point in watching her leave. I just kept looking up at the tower, using one arm to shield my eyes from the sun. It was a staring contest and I voluntarily looked away and down at my lunch, not wanting to trigger a bad case of demon bitch mode. The tiny throb that started in my shoulder reminded me of that much. 

It wasn't long before Faith and Krista made their way over to me, followed by a handful of girls who started jumping and flipping around to entertain us all. They were laughing. They were positive. Things were good . . . 

. . . which should've been a sign right then and there that bad things were on their way. 

We've all been too blind to see it, or maybe we're just being purposely naïve. Ignorance is bliss, and sometimes it's easier to live without thinking about the bad things, even if you know deep in your mind that they're just around the corner. 

Still, today started just like any other day. I've been staying out in the camp with the girls and Faith has taken her old room back. Just like always, even now she still needs her own personal space now and again. She spends all day with us and then goes off on her own at night. 

I still wonder what she does in there at night; if she's alone, or has a guest, or if she cries and screams or just goes to sleep nice and easy. Faith puts on a great show for the girls, positive and cool and controlled, but I wonder what's under the mask when there's no one there to see it slip. 

Regardless, we woke up not too long after dawn and everyone slowly migrated to the food tent. Faith was there before all of us, sipping on a cup on weak coffee and staring off into the distance. Something was bothering her and I could see it in her face, but she quickly covered it up as soon as everyone came around. 

I didn't have to ask her what was wrong; I knew. Deep down we all did, though most of us pretended not to notice or care. 

It's the weekend. It's a fight night. 

And as easy as things have been lately – not including the injuries Ha or I got in previous battles – things are about to change. There's been a power shift in the camp. Girls are strong and confident and working as one. 

It's about time they bring us down a notch. 

We all try to be casual during the day. A bunch of girls do some light stretching and training in the yard but no one really pushes too hard. We have to save our strength just in case. There's no telling what's going to happen later in the arena and I'm pretty sure most of us are doing what we can not to think about it. It's just too hard to think about losing even one person from the camp; from the family they built together and welcomed me into, even after I made it clear I shouldn't be a part of it. 

The sun is just beginning to set now and there's a tense silence over the camp as we all listen to the eerie sounds of cheering from within the already full arena. The crowd is going wild and we haven't even walked out there yet. Hell, we haven't even started to suit up yet; it's far too early which means that there's definitely a special fight planned for the night. 

All of the girls are in the yard, including Jo. She's put a canyon of distance between her and the rest of us but she's here nonetheless. Faith is watching her like a hawk and Jo is defiant – or maybe just plain stupid – holding Faith's gaze and not backing down for a single second. I heard them arguing last night. Jo wanted to go over the wall. She thought it would be better for her to leave and take her chances than to have to kill or be killed by one of the people closest to her. Faith wouldn't hear that though and all but physically dragged her away from the wall. I'm pretty sure she didn't sleep a wink cos she was too busy making sure Jo or nobody else did anything stupid. 

While they have a silent battle, the rest of us sit around and watch the horde of guards that are now lining the walls. There's at least triple the amount that are normally on duty. 

Our instinct was right; something's definitely up. 

The gate to the arena opens without warning and four guards walk through, each carrying a set of battle armor. The armor is all buffed and shiny and I have no doubt in my mind that they want the fight tonight to be a spectacle. I can hear the crowd roaring and stomping even louder than I could before. 

A few of the girls closest to the gate shuffle away, hoping that a bit of physical distance from the guards will save them. After seeing those four sets of armor though, I'm pretty sure most of these girls are safe. Krista and I share a knowing glance and look quickly back at the guards. We know exactly what's coming next. 

"Stand, slayers," one of the guards shouts. We stand without being told twice but apparently that doesn't make him happy enough. "Line up!" 

We do as we're told, forming two lines one in front of the other. Jo is on the far end of the back line and Faith is just in front of her. Krista is in the front row with me down on the other end and we're both trying not to make it obvious that we're looking at Jo and Faith but we just can't seem to stop. 

The four guards spread out, two heading toward the far end of the line and two heading toward ours. We all know exactly where they're headed. It's what we've been dreading – and expecting – for some time now. 

I keep my eyes down when I see one of the two guards headed in our direction stop before me. He waits for a second before thrusting the armor against my chest, holding it there until I wrap my arms around it and take it from him completely. I don't need to look next to me to know that Krista is holding a set of armor too but I do anyhow. Her hands are trembling but she's trying to keep calm. When the two guards walk away to join the others, her eyes meet mine and I can see just how scared she is. 

I don't blame her. I am too. Freaking out isn't going to help anyone though so I just shake my head at her a little, then look past her and down the long line of slayers to see one of the other guards handing Faith some armor. The fourth guard thrusts the last set of armor at Jo but her arms stay limp at her sides, her gaze fixed on the ground. 

"Slayer, take your armor and prepare." 

We all watch as Jo completely ignores him. Several moments pass and he steps closer into her personal space. 

"Take your armor or do not, it makes no difference to me. Either way, you will fight." 

Jo suddenly looks up and meets the guard's gaze. She doesn't say anything but she shocks us all by spitting in his face and smiling as he wipes it away. It's not completely unexpected when he winds back and backhands her across the face, making her stumble back a step before regaining her balance. Her lip is split and a trickle of blood leaks down her chin which she touches with her fingertips. She stares at the blood on her fingers for just a moment before grabbing the armor and throwing it down to the ground angrily. She doesn't charge the guard or the fence; instead she looks down the row to me and snarls angrily. 

"This is all _your_ fault!" she screams. 

She takes the first step of what I can only guess is a running start at me but then Faith's holding her back as the rest of the slayers gasp and look on in shock. 

"Let me go!" Jo grunts and when Faith sets her feet back down on the ground, she quickly spins and decks Faith on the chin. 

The fire behind Faith's eyes is hard to miss and both Krista and I take off running in an instant, stopping only when we reach them. Krista holds Jo back while I try to restrain Faith. It's a lot like trying to keep a bullet from leaving a gun once the trigger has been pulled. 

"Guys, stop!" Krista yells. 

It takes a few minutes of struggling but Faith and Jo finally calm down enough so that we can hold them back. The guards along the wall watch and laugh, completely amused by the little show. 

We're all so wrapped up in the whole debacle that no one notices a guard coming over with iron shackles until he has one slapped on Faith's wrist and is busy linking the other to mine. We look down at our joined arms, then over at Krista and Jo who are being linked together just the same. Their eyes widen when they realize what's going on. 

It's them against us; the original slayers. 

"Save your aggression for the arena, you will need it," a guard says gruffly. 

He stands by and watches like a hawk as we slip the small pieces of armor on, fastening them as best as we can while chained to one another. I only just have time to clasp on my last forearm guard before he yanks on the chain connecting Faith and I. We barely manage to stay vertical as we stumble along and continue looking back at Jo and Krista. Faith is having another staring contest with Jo but there's something different in their eyes this time. Gone is the anger from just a minute before and now all I can see from both of them is fear. They've seen this before; they know how this works. 

Only one of them is walking out of this alive, and now their last memory is of the stupid fight they were having over this. Over me. 

I look over at Krista and her eyes are locked on mine, wide with fear. I know what's supposed to happen in the arena, but . . . I know I won't be able to do it. Looking at Krista now, I know I could never hurt her. Faith and her . . . they saved me from myself. 

"I won't do it," I say, barely even loud enough for my own ears to hear as the guard continues pulling Faith and I away. "I promise, I won't." 

Her lips barely whisper my name before I'm yanked even harder, sending Faith and I stumbling out into the arena. There's a huge roar and the crowd surges as they see us for the first time this evening. I guess that Faith has always been a crowd favorite here and word has gotten out about me too. Seeing us chained together as one big ass-kicking machine is making them insane with excitement. 

It's making me insane with anger. 

The guard parades us around the outside of the arena in a big circle, occasionally thrusting his arm up victoriously, like he caught us or something. He's got to be more than six feet tall, so every time he raises his arm – and the chain that connects us – Faith and I have to hang there like morose little puppets. 

It's humiliating, and between that and the look on Krista's face as he yanked us away from her and Jo, I'm getting angrier by the second. 

I think that's the whole point. They want us vicious. 

By the time he gets us around full circle and to the center of the ring, I see Jo and Krista already there waiting for us. I steal a glance over at Faith and I see her jaw clenched tightly as she stares up into the crowd. The fear is still there, but now she's furious. Our misery has been made a spectacle of from the first day they started us fighting in the arenas, but this is too much. 

There's been no plotting or scheming, no dissent from within the camp. This is completely uncalled for and Faith isn't going to let it happen easily. Neither will I. 

The guard that's been dragging us around whips us over so that we almost collide with Krista and Jo. The only thing that stops us is Faith who quickly regains her footing and pulls on the chain, just barely stopping me crashing into them head first. We take a few steps away, hoping for some crazy reason that a bit of distance will help. I can see Krista trembling from here but there's nothing I can do about it and Jo certainly isn't helping with how she's focused only on Faith. 

There's no table of weapons for us to choose from and that's pretty alarming in itself but for now I choose to see it as a bonus. If we're left to punches and kicks, we can keep things from going too bad too fast. 

"This is Jamie and Rachel all over again," Faith says more to herself than anything. She's looking around the arena, completely disgusted but unable to do anything to change this. After a moment she stops her slow turn to the side and harshly says, "B." 

I follow her gaze and look up through the crowd and to a monitor at one end of the arena. There are a slew of demons there that run the camp, smiling cruelly as they watch me staring at a bloodied and bruised Dawn on the screen. My breath catches in my throat and my eyes get blurry with tears that will never fall. 

"Oh god. She's still alive." 

"Don't give them what they want," Faith says, her words quiet. 

"What's that?" I manage to mumble out. 

"A shell. Remember who you are. Remember who they are." 

She nods her head towards Jo and Krista. It's hard but I finally manage to pry my eyes from the image of Dawn on the screen and look over them. They look terrified. They're terrified of us. 

"They're here, Buffy, still alive, too. Can you do it? Can you turn off everything inside you again and kill them?" 

It takes me a minute but I finally shake my head, tears stinging my eyes. 

"No." 

"Neither can I." 

"How can we stop this?" 

"We can't," she replies sadly, eyes now focused on a pair of guards that are walking across the arena from the armory with a few weapons in their arms. 

The closer they get, the better I'm able to see that they're not carrying weapons for all of us; there are two swords and two shields. He hands a sword to Faith and a shield to me, then a sword to Jo and a shield to Krista. We stand and face each other, mirror images of the same scared girls. 

"It appears that our warriors are ready," a voice rings out from the loudspeakers throughout the arena and the crowd roars in response. "Can you feel the fear, the anger? It's intoxicating." 

"I'm gonna kill ‘em all. One day I'm gonna kill ‘em all," Faith says through clenched teeth. Her hand is gripping the sword hilt so hard that I think she might break it. 

"Then we need to live," I say to her, tearing my eyes away from Krista's for a moment to look up at Faith's face. 

"We all need to live." 

"Then we need to come up with a fucking plan!" I yell, and I think I actually shocked her. She looks over at me, startled, but I can tell she's trying to work something out behind those brown eyes of hers. 

An airhorn sounds and the crowd roars even louder, cheering like mad. That's the signal; the fight has begun. The four of us stand still and look at each other, confused. We haven't started fighting; why are they sounding the horns? 

Beyond the roar of the crowd, my slayer hearing picks up on some other sound. It's a low rumbling and I can feel it vibrating throughout my body. It takes me a second but I know where I've felt it before. By the way Faith's eyes are widening, I know she does too. We barely have a chance to look at each other before we see them pouring into every entrance of the arena like locusts. 

Ubervamps. Hundreds of them. 

"Holy shit!" Krista yells as both she and Jo quickly run up to us. 

"Back to back. Get back to back!" Faith yells. 

"What do we do?" Jo shouts, gripping her sword like a baseball bat. 

"Take off their heads!" Faith yells as she easily slices the heads off the first two ubervamps that approach. "Just keep them the fuck off of us!" 

Several more are approaching quickly and I know we have maybe five seconds before we're under full attack. 

"B," Faith starts, her eyes never leaving the vamps. 

"I know. I'll keep us safe. All of us." 

No sooner than the words leave my mouth are we thrown back by the next wave of ubervamps. The only reason we're still standing is because Jo and Krista were attacked at the same time, sending them barreling back into us as well. I dig my left foot into the ground and brace the shield on my left shoulder, then thrust out with as much strength as I can muster. About six ubervamps go flying backwards and into the next wave, scattering them like bowling pins. Another wave is right behind them though and they walk over the vamps still struggling to get back to their feet. They're on us in an instant and Faith strikes out with everything she has. 

Dust scatters all around us as Jo and Faith behead as many vamps as they can. Krista and I hold back the ones that they miss, lashing out with punches and kicks wherever we're able. Understandably, it's all a little awkward when you're shackled to another person. Faith has had to run a few of the vamps through with her sword and the injured lay all around us, clawing at our legs and feet to make us stumble. 

Krista screams out in pain and I look down to see a huge gash on her leg where an ubervamp managed to claw her. Jo manages to slice his head off as he was looking up at us but the injury is already there and looking pretty grotesque. 

"I'm okay!" Krista gasps out but I can see the pain in her eyes. 

"This is insanity!" Jo yells as she takes out three vamps at once, showering the next wave of vamps with dust. 

"No, insanity woulda been us doing this to each other!" Faith yells back. 

A vamp charges from the side and I shield bash him, sending him flying through the air, unconscious. 

We continue on like this for what feels like hours but I know it's actually so much less than that. The waves are getting slower and more spread out and I'll be damned if Jo and Faith aren't actually having a bit of fun with this now. They're proud. We're injured, bleeding, and exhausted and the crowd is booing and throwing stuff into the arena, but they're proud. They have every right to be. 

We just took on an army with two swords and two shields and we're gonna win. 

As far as victories go, this one is pretty darn sweet. 

Jo and Faith easily take out the last of the stragglers, leaving only a few severely incapacitated or unconscious ubervamps lying around. I don't take part in the high-fives Faith and Jo give each other but instead put my shield down and kneel next to Krista to take a look at her leg. She's got the worst injury by far but she's trying to tough it out even now. 

"It's okay, Buffy, I'm fine," she says. 

"I know you are," I tell her, offering her a small smile before focusing on her leg again. There's a piece of skin flopping around that I'm pretty sure shouldn't be but I don't want to get her upset by panicking. 

I rip off a piece of my cloth shirt from under my armor and press it tightly to her leg, making her hiss out in pain. 

"Hey, watch it! I'm trying not to look like a pussy over here!" she says with a grin. 

"No way are you a pussy, K. That leg is gnarly! Gonna have a killer scar from it," Faith shouted over the noise of the booing crowd. 

"Just what I need, more battle scars." 

I try to stand but my legs are tired and I just wobble around on the ground for a minute before Faith holds her hand out to me, a proud smile on her face. 

"And you. Kept your shit together good, B. Gotta say, I'm impressed." 

"I'm just glad we're all okay." 

"I'll drink to that," Jo says. "Now when the hell can we get outta this dust bowl and into the showers? Think I inhaled some ubervamp." 

Faith laughs, "Still got a lot to learn, kid. Girl can slay a dragon but still doesn't know to close her mouth when she kills a . . ." 

Suddenly Faith's words trail off and her eyes widen. I look over to see one of the ubervamps who had been laying unconscious just seconds ago standing right behind Jo with his crude weapon already pulled back, ready to strike. 

"No!" Faith calls out and dives forward, pulling me along with her. Her sword slices easily through the ubervamp's neck, showering us all with a fresh layer of dust as the three of us fall to the ground in a heap with Krista nearly toppling over right onto us. 

We quickly get back onto our feet and move to help Jo but it's too late. Her eyes are wide open staring up into the night sky, the crude sword protruding through her chest from her back.


	11. Chapter Eleven

The next few minutes seem to go by in slow motion as the shock and horror settle in. It's only seconds after we realize that Jo's been run through with the sword that Faith is kneeling at her side, gripping onto her chest armor and trying to shake her awake. Jo's head lulls back as soon as Faith lifts her the few inches off the ground and right away I know that there's nothing that's gonna bring her back.

She's already gone. 

"Wake up, Jo! You fucking bitch, you wake the fuck up. Come on!" 

"Faith . . ." Krista begins as she kneels down on the other side of Jo, trying to pry Faith's hands from Jo's armor. 

"Help me wake her up, K," Faith pleads. She holds her gaze for a second and Krista sighs sadly. 

A moment passes and Krista leans forward, putting her hand on Jo's cheek and looking down at her face. Her fingertips slip down to Jo's neck and she presses just below her jaw, looking for a heartbeat. Faith watches her intently, knuckles white from gripping on so tightly. Krista closes her eyes when she realizes that Jo is actually gone. She draws in a deep breath through her nose 

"She's gone, Faith," she says sadly. I can barely hear her voice over the sound of the now cheering crowd. 

A couple hundred ubervamps down and only one of us. I'd hardly say that gives them cause to cheer and celebrate, but I don't think they're celebrating Jo's death; they're eating up Faith's reaction. They've never seen her lose her cool. 

Faith looks up from Jo to Krista's face and just stares at her, trying to take in what she just said. She blinks a few times and it looks like she understands, but she definitely doesn't accept it. I can tell that much from the way she's clenching her jaw and by the way her knuckles are getting whiter and whiter from gripping Jo's chest armor so tightly. She shakes her head and looks back down at Jo, not seeming to notice the throng of guards that have entered the arena and are walking toward us from all directions. 

I don't know what's about to happen but I know it won't be good; I can feel it in my bones. As casually as possible without drawing attention to myself, I bend down and pick up my shield. I'd take Faith or Jo's swords from the ground but I can't reach it without tugging Faith and I'm trying to be discreet. 

Krista notices me moving and looks over, then instantly realizes that we're being surrounded by armed guards. Her eyes widen and she looks over at Faith, trying to get her attention without speaking. Faith is too busy staring down at Jo though, eyes wet with unshed tears and full of anger. 

"Thought ya said you'd never go down without a fight, Jo," Faith all but whispers, making me strain to hear her voice. 

What she does next takes me by surprise. She tugs on Jo's armor and pulls her up into her arms, hugging her tightly. The sword through Jo's chest only narrowly avoids Faith and I instantly grimace because I know that Faith's gonna be covered in the carnage left behind when she pulls away. 

I know I promised I wouldn't shed anymore tears in this place but I feel the wetness on my cheeks anyhow. There's no way I can even begin to imagine how Faith's keeping it together right now, but then I see her – really see her. Her back is tense and her muscles are coiled like she's about to leap into action. Krista meets my gaze without turning her head and I can see the fear in her eyes as they quickly flicker back to Faith, then to the approaching guards. I tilt my head to the side and peek over Faith's shoulder and that's when I see it: her hand is tightly gripping onto the sword sticking out from Jo's back. 

Oh shit. 

"Slayers, stand. Leave the dead and return to your quarters," the closest guard shouts above the cheering crowd. 

They wait for Faith to stand but she's just kneeling there, her body shaking now. It's not from sobs, either; it's from anger. 

"Slayers, stand!" he shouts again, stepping closer to us. When Faith doesn't react, he reaches down and grabs the back of her hair, trying to lift her. 

I suddenly hear her whisper, "I won't let ya go down without a fight, Jo." 

She lifts her head – and the sword that she easily pulls out of Jo – and swings at him, easily slicing off the hand still holding her hair. The guard starts to howl in pain and Faith springs up into action. His head is off and rolling around at her feet before the other guards can register what happened. 

And then everything tumbles into chaos. Krista tries to get into a fighting stance but she's still attached to Jo. Faith swings her blade down without looking and lobs off Jo's hand just above the wrist, setting Kris free. I'm sure I'd feel more horrified about that if I wasn't so busy trying to protect Faith's back from the approaching guards. 

"Faith, what the hell are you doing?" I yell as a guard brings his mace down on my shield, denting it in like tinfoil. 

"What does it look like?" 

"You're gonna get us all killed!" 

"We all die anyway," she shouts, grunting as she brings her sword down on a fallen guard. 

"Do you want us to end up like Jo?" I ask. When she doesn't respond, I spin around and knock a guard in the head with my shield, then tug on the chain between our wrists until we're awkwardly standing face to face. "Do you want it to be your fault?" 

She stares at me, breathing hard through her nose as she clenches her jaw tightly. Just when she opens her mouth to speak, we hear a scream from the side and see two guards dragging a struggling Krista back toward the entry to the camp. I don't think, I just start moving toward her, tugging a reluctant Faith along with me. I take maybe five steps before I'm yanked back but I keep struggling to get to Krista anyhow. Suddenly I feel a much more violent tug and I stagger back, expecting to slam right into Faith's side. Instead I hit something big that bounces me back a few steps before the chain stops me. When I look up, I see Bobb-o standing with a struggling Faith over his shoulder. He doesn't look angry like the other guards do; he looks concerned. Scared even. 

"Faith no fight," he says, wincing as she repeatedly pummels his back. 

The sword she was using is on the ground at my feet and I take a quick glance down at it, my fingers automatically flexing. Bobb-o's foot suddenly stomps down on it, dashing away my hope of quickly grabbing it. 

"Bee no fight," he says, his big glossy eyes pleading with me. 

"You fuckin' let me down, Bobb-o," Faith shouts as she wriggles around trying to get free. "I'll kill every fuckin' one of you." 

Bobb-o stops looking at me and instead wraps his arm tighter around Faith, keeping her firmly in place. He turns and starts to head toward one of the exits . . . which means I'm going too, apparently, as I stumble and dangle around behind him by the chain connecting me to Faith. 

Faith takes a few swings at the guards we pass on the way out and even manages to knock one out with a surprise kick to the head. She looks over at me and yells, "Don't just fuckin' stand there; fight them!" 

Little does she know I can barely keep up with Bobb-o's big steps, let alone even think about taking passing shots at the armed guards. The crowd is cheering so loudly I can barely hear myself think. As we approach the exit door, I see Faith's gaze shift to someplace behind me. She stops thrashing around and just stares, her jaw clenched and eyes filled with rage. 

I turn around and see one of the guards parading Jo's lifeless body around the arena while another guard uses her severed hand to wave at the crowd. There's a loud thud behind me and then Faith runs past me and back into the arena, tugging me along with her. The crowd roars and the guards spring back into action, trying to catch us as we run – or rather, Faith runs and I stumble – back toward the offending guards. 

She approaches one of the two guards from behind and grabs the sword out of the scabbard on his hip. His head rolls at our feet within seconds and Faith instantly heads toward the guard holding up Jo's body. The sword easily plunges through his back and out of his chest, just like it had with Jo. The guard stumbles and falls, pulling us with him since Faith hasn't let go of the sword. We fall in a heap and when I lift my head up, I see that Faith has come to rest face to face with Jo. She lets out a loud scream which silences everyone in the entire arena. 

They can't hear her angry sobs but I can. 

It takes only seconds for a now limping Bobb-o to catch up and stop just beside us, giving Faith the time that she needs to grieve. I stay completely silent, horror and dread filling my heart as I watch the scene before me. No matter what comes next, I know it isn't gonna be good. There's no way Faith is gonna bounce back from this. She's already given up. 

Bobb-o puts a hand on her shoulder and tries to encourage her up but she slaps his hand away. The other guards – thoroughly pissed off now – are losing their patience though and Bobb-o knows he has to take matters into his own hands again. He may be a demon but Faith is his friend; he doesn't want to lose her. Not like this. 

He grabs her around the waist and hauls her over his shoulder again, dragging me up as he stands to his full height. He grunts in pain every time she pounds on his back but he walks steadily along, clinging to her tightly. 

"Faith, stop," I say quietly, my eyes pleading with hers. 

There's nothing but darkness in her usually bright eyes though and she tells me to shut the fuck up as she continues to struggle. We finally make it out of the arena and down one of the dim corridors that lead to the camp. I'm not sure what Bobb-o is planning on doing with us, or more specifically her, but I know that once he puts her down she's going to freak out again. 

I can't let the girls in the camp see that. She's their fearless leader. If they see how bad she is, they're gonna lose hope. Losing Jo is already gonna be hard enough for them to deal with; they can't lose her too. 

"Bobb-o, wait," I say and finally get to rest my weary legs as he comes to a stop and turns to partially face me. "We can't take her out to the camp and her room is too close to the girls. Is there anyplace else . . .?" I trail off, waiting for him to say something. 

"Take me back out to that fucking arena, that's what you can do," Faith grunts, still struggling. She pulls her leg back and is about to give his gut another kick but he catches her leg this time and keeps his grip tight on her ankle. 

"Faith no fight," he says, trying to keep his gruff voice gentle. He looks over at me and nods before leading us down another dim corridor. 

A short walk –and much swearing from Faith – later, and we arrive at the showers. Bobb-o walks us in through the heavy door, letting it close with a loud thump behind us. His patience with Faith's constant pummeling must be wearing thin because he drops her unceremoniously on the middle of the shower floor with a thud almost as loud as the closing door had made. She grunts with pain but is almost instantly on her feet and trying to charge him. I grab her around the waist and pull her against me, struggling to hold her as her arms claw and punch in his direction. 

"Let me the fuck go!" 

"Bobb-o, just go," I tell him, meeting his worried gaze. "I'll be fine. Just leave me alone with her for a while." 

"Bee sure? Faith mad." 

"B's very sure. We just need some time." 

He hesitates but then turns around and heads for the door, taking one last glance back at us before walking out. The sound of a metal lock clicks and I let go of Faith's waist, ready to face the storm. I brace myself for whatever abuse she's about to throw at me. 

I don't expect the silence that I get. 

A few minutes pass but I stay fully alert because I can see the way her muscles are still tensed and ready to lash out. Her fists are clenched tightly and I just know that sooner or later I'm gonna be on their receiving end. 

Faster than I can react, Faith spins around and throws a punch, landing it just under my jaw. I stumble backwards but don't get too far thanks to the chain still connecting us. She uses it to pull me back to her and I ready myself for another hit that never comes. Instead she catches me by my upper arms and grabs onto them tightly, positioning me so that I'm face to face with her. 

"I fucking hate you," she says through clenched teeth, her eyes boring into mine. "Bad Luck Buffy, bringing all of the pain and despair along with her. Shoulda fed ya to the wolves when ya first got here." 

I listen to her words and let her say her piece. She's waiting for me to react, though, and I think my lack of a reaction is just further spurning her on. 

"What's the matter, B? Cat got your tongue? Well hey, since you're so quiet here, that'll give me the chance to ask ya something else." 

"Go ahead, Faith. Do your worst," I say passively. 

She gets closer to me so that I can feel the warmth of her body against my skin. Her smile is cruel and she tilts her head to the side as she asks, "Why ain't I dead?" 

And exactly what does she want me to say here? 

"Maybe because you're lucky? You certainly didn't have any problem putting your life on the line out there when you stupidly challenged a horde of armed guards." 

She laughs a bitter laugh and shakes her head. 

"You're not listening. Why ain't I dead, B? I was fighting those ubervamps too, but here I am now, fun and fancy-free. How'd I make it through that?" 

I think about it for a second before replying, "Because I had the shield and I protected us." 

"That's right. Because you protected us. Now here's another question for ya, princess, and I want ya to really think about this one." She surges forward and slams me against the wall, holding me there with her tight grip on my chest armor. There's a dangerous look in her eyes and a snarl on her lips. "Where the fuck was that shield when that ubervamp got the slip on Jo? Hmm?" 

My mouth opens in surprise. She thinks . . . she's blaming me for Jo's death? That's not . . . I can't . . . 

"Nothing like the cold, hard truth to shut you the fuck up, huh," she says, a satisfied smirk on her face. 

I snap out of my stupor at that, more than a little pissed off. 

"You know what, Faith? You're wrong. We fought together as a team, and as a team we won. Krista was hurt so I checked up on her. You were the one standing with Jo. Does that mean it's your fault?" I grunt as she pulls me from the wall and slams me back against it again but I don't stop talking. "No. It's nobody's fault." 

"Well, maybe it's not your fault," she says, feigning confusion. "Maybe I should be havin' this chat with your buddy K. She was the one who was supposed to be protecting Jo, after all." 

She starts to take a step away but I grab onto her armor and pull her close enough so that she can feel my breath on her face. 

"You leave her out of this," I almost growl but quickly fight to regain my composure. "She fought hard, just like the rest of us. You can't pass the blame on this one because there's no one to blame; it was an unfortunate accident and it couldn't be helped." 

She listens to me speak, her jaw clenching tightly until I finish that last sentence. Then the cruel smile is back and I know that whatever comes out of her mouth next is gonna hurt. 

"I guess you're the expert on that one, aren't ya, B? Buffy Summers, the deadliest slayer in the arena circuit. Cuts them down by the heart or the head. Oh, wait . . . those were probably ‘unfortunate accidents' too, weren't they?" 

Suddenly the memory of every girl I killed in the arena starts washing over me, filling me with a sense of guilt and horror that I haven't felt in a long time now. 

"Shut up. You have no idea," I begin through clenched teeth but she cuts me off before I can continue. 

"Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea. That's always been your M.O., takin' people out by the head or the heart. Even back in SunnyD ya fucked with my heart, then with my head when things went a little bit . . ." 

My fist flies out before I can stop it and lands square on her mouth, cutting off the flow of her venomous words. 

"You shut your mouth," I growl out, barely able to find my voice. 

She removes one of her hands from my armor and runs the back of it over her mouth, looking for blood. Finding none, she smiles and shakes her head. 

"Make me." 

And I lose control. 

I strike out at her in a flurry of fists and feet, grunting with effort as she matches every punch and every kick, hit for hit. The dangerous smile is back on her face and I suddenly realize what she's trying to do. 

She wants me to beat her. She wants me to win. She's given up and she wants this over, and I'm the only one who can best her. 

I stop suddenly and drop my fists to my sides, breathing heavily as I stare at a wild-eyed Faith. She's watching me, waiting for me to move, but I shake my head no and take a step back. 

"No. I'm not playing your game. I won't be the one to . . ." 

I don't get to finish what I'm saying because I'm suddenly pressed up against the wall again, but this time I'm not pinned there by Faith's hands but by her lips. Her mouth is hot and hard against mine and I'm not sure why but I find myself lost in the kiss, letting her take from me whatever she wants. My chest is burning and I need to breathe but I can't pull away from her mouth. I kiss her deeper instead while my fingers push into her hair, keeping as close to her as I can. 

The chain that's linked between our wrists is cold against my stomach as it presses awkwardly between us but Faith doesn't let it get in her way. Her hands slide down my sides and over my stomach as she devours my mouth. I gasp against her lips when I feel her hand sliding down even lower but I'm powerless to stop her. My hands wind tighter in her hair and keep her lips pressed to mine when she tries to look down between us. 

Her fingers aren't tentative or clumsy but instead seek out exactly what they want, slipping into my panties and expertly between my folds. She doesn't seem surprised to find me wet for her; even though Faith and I don't exactly have a great history together, there's no denying the way fighting each other makes our bodies react. Maybe our bodies know something that our brains won't let us think. 

She hums against my lips as her fingers find my clit and press down on it, making me sigh into her mouth. I know this shouldn't be happening but I can't stop it. I don't want to stop it. When she strikes up a rhythm, slipping over and around my clit, I try my best not to let my brain explode. I concentrate on the feel of her fingers, the taste of her kiss, and the almost tentative way she's rubbing herself against my thigh to get some relief. 

Almost as if on autopilot, my right hand disentangles from her hand and slips down between us, brushing over the chain and dipping down beneath her armor. My fingertips are wet before I even manage to slip them inside her panties and she groans when I softly cup her pussy. Her hips thrust against my hand, trying to get some friction. I know I'm not exactly well-versed in the joys of lesbian sex but it comes easy for me as I copy and mimic her moves. She groans when my teeth nibble on her lower lip, then she surprises me by slipping two of her fingers inside of my dripping hole. 

"Ohh, shit," I gasp out, my eyes shutting tightly as I adjust to the feel of her inside of me. She doesn't give me any time and instead starts up a steady rhythm while her palm pushes hard against my clit. "Fuck!" 

I'm trying to keep up with her but my arms feel so heavy that I'm not even sure my fingers are moving anymore. 

"Inside," she whispers against my lips before sucking my tongue into her mouth. 

My fingers easily slide through her wetness and inside of her with little resistance. Her head drops back and her eyes slam shut as I start to thrust my fingers inside of her, feeling her walls pulsing around me. She stills her fingers inside of me for just a few seconds before pulling them out and back up to my clit, slipping over it hard and fast. 

I know I won't be able to hold back for long at this pace and a few minutes later I come hard against her hand, my entire body spasming as the pleasure washes over me. It's been so long since I've felt this; since I let myself feel this. There should be guilt but instead there's only relief and warmth and I feel like I've been missing this my entire life. 

Faith continues to kiss and suck on my lips as I come back down, trying my best to keep my fingers moving inside of her. Her breath hitches in her throat as I pick the pace back up and press my palm against her clit like she'd done with me. She grunts softly as I add a third finger inside of her and she clenches her eyes shut even tighter. I feel her warm breath against my face and as much as I want to feel her lips on mine again, I want to see how this ends even more. 

Her inner walls clamp down around my fingers and she bucks against my hand, her thighs clamping together to keep me against her while she rides out her orgasm. I feel her sticky wetness seep onto my hand and I feel wrongly proud for being the one to make that happen. For getting her wet and making her come. 

I don't know how all of this happened - we were fighting five minutes ago and then we were fucking – but I don't feel the shame or the guilt that I thought I'd feel. I just feel warm. Satisfied. And I don't feel alone. 

Faith's body rests against mine as we take a few minutes to catch our breath. I pull my fingers from her pussy with a wet plop and she twitches, a tiny smile tugging at the corner of her lips for just a split second. She finally opens her eyes and looks at me after a moment. Her lips find mine and we share another kiss, her tongue slipping over and around mine before she withdraws it. She kisses my bottom lip, then my top lip before she pulls back and looks at me with a puzzled look on her face for a few moments. My thumb traces over her cheek and jaw and by the time I meet her eyes again, the look of puzzlement is gone and she looks blank. Her walls are back up. 

She takes a step back and adjusts her armor, then wipes the fingers still covered in my wetness off on her hip. Her eyes suddenly look less hard than they were a moment ago. It looks like she wants to say something but we're interrupted by someone standing in the doorway and clearing their throat. We both look over to see Bobb-o standing there with the key to our shackles. He looks wary yet confused at the same time. 

Faith nods at him and he shuffles over, eying her cautiously as he unlocks our restraints. The iron cuff slips from my wrist and clangs noisily on the floor, disturbing Faith's thoughts. She looks back to me, the cruel smile back in place. 

"You can take her away, Bobb-o. I'm done with her." 

I watch her for a second, confused. I want to ask her what's going on or what just happened, but she turns away before I can say anything and starts to strip down. Her armor is kicked to the side a few moments later and she steps naked under the warm spray of the shower, seemingly forgetting that I'm still standing here. 

Bobb-o tugs on my elbow and I look up at him, then back at Faith. 

"Come, Bee. Back to camp." 

I watch to see if Faith will react in any way but she just goes on with her shower like she's standing here alone. Shaking my head, I turn and head for the door with Bobb-o hot on my heels. 

Just as I walk out, I hear Faith shout out for Bobb-o and I stupidly get my hopes up that she's changed her mind. That I'm gonna find out what just happened. That she hasn't just treated me like some kind of use-and-discard getting off service. 

"Tell Shy to get her ink and get the fuck in here," she shouts before the door shuts behind me. 

And my hope comes crashing back down. 

Ahh, there's that guilt I was looking for.


	12. Chapter Twelve

Bobb-o keeps completely quiet as he takes me back to the camp. I think he can tell that I'm not up for any kind of his usual babble right now. What just happened with Faith has my mind doing some kind of little meltdown. One minute she was going crazy trying to get back in the arena, then we were fighting, and then . . .

Well, we all know what happened after that. 

Maybe someone can explain it to me. 

The last place I want to be is around a hundred girls asking questions and expecting me to comfort them after losing Jo, but there's nowhere I can go to be alone. There's no way I'd go back to Faith's room because I can only assume that she'll be going there soon and I'm not exactly up for a repeat of our little performance from the shower. 

I need some alone time, some sleep, and a shower in the worst way, but it's all gonna have to wait. All of my problems have to wait, because I just realized I don't know what happened to Krista when the guards dragged her away. 

God, I'm so selfish. Here I am worried about me and I never even stopped to think about her for a second. 

I pick up my pace and I can hear Bobb-o struggling to keep up with me. He knows by now that I'm not trying to get away from him though so he doesn't even shout after me as I break into a full run when we get through the narrow passageway and out into the open camp. There are girls sitting everywhere throughout the yard, crying and looking distressed. They barely even notice me as I zip by, heading for the tent with the most commotion. 

It's the infirmary. 

I hear the panicked yelling before I can see what's going on. Pushing my way past the girls standing in the entranceway, I run in and stop dead when I see Krista laying back on a cot, pale and barely conscious. 

"What happened to her?" I yell as I fight my way to her side and take her hand. It's so cold. 

"The guards took her out of the arena but she saw that you and Faith were still fighting, so she struggled," Diane says as she grabs a pile of clean gauze pads and presses them tightly on the gash on Krista's thigh. "They didn't rough her up but there was trauma to her already injured leg. I think her artery might be nicked. I can't stop the bleeding." 

Instinct kicks in and I grab Krista's remaining armor and rip it off with my bare hands, then press down hard on her upper thigh above the wound. Krista cries out in pain. 

"I know it hurts, Kris," I say, trying to soothe her with my eyes. "Diane can fix it but we need to stop the bleeding first, right Diane?" 

I look up at her and she meets my gaze, hesitant to answer. I give her a little nod. 

"I'll try my best," Diane replies, not exactly offering as much hope as I would have liked. She reaches onto the cart she'd wheeled over before I arrived and pulls a sealed white box out from the bottom shelf. 

It's the last box on the cart. 

"Do you have everything you need in there?" I ask her. 

"Not even close," she answers. The look on her face says the rest: it's all she has. She steals a peek down at the wound and notices that the bleeding has slowed down. "Krista honey," she begins, "I have to do this now because we can't keep the blood flow cut off to the rest of your leg for too long. That means we can't wait for any kind of alcohol to kick in." 

"Just do it," Krista says weakly, her lips a pale blue color. 

"Keep your hands on her nice and tight," Diane says to me quietly and I nod. 

Two of the girls bring over some old flashlights and they shine them into the wound, giving Diane a clear view. When I saw the gaping tear in her leg, I had to look away. I've been a slayer for years but what's happening just six inches from my hands is too much for me to watch. My hands stay firm around her leg and I keep them there until I hear Diane tell me to slowly – very slowly – let go. 

Diane sighs with relief when my hands are finally back at my side. I look down, purposefully avoiding the wound, and see the color starting to flow back into her lower leg. 

"You're gonna be just fine, Krista," she says, unable to keep the smile from her face. "All we have to do is close up this gash, let you get some rest and you should be up and about in a few days." 

"Yippee," Krista replies flatly, her voice barely a whisper. 

I drop down onto one knee beside her and wipe the sweat from the clammy skin on her forehead. Her eyes slowly look over at me and she attempts a smile, the corners of her lips barely lifting. 

"You did good," I say quietly, afraid that if I speak any louder, I'll hurt her. 

"Oh yeah, real good." 

"You're not allowed to be sarcastic within an hour of a near-death experience. It's like swimming after you eat. Big no-no." 

She chuckles quietly, wincing in pain when Diane starts stitching up her leg. After a minute and several deep breaths later, she looks over at me again, her eyes watery. 

"Faith?" 

I try to keep smiling at her but I avoid her eyes, looking up at her forehead. She can tell I'm avoiding the question and she shifts her head a little to meet my eyes. Guess I have no choice but to answer her. 

"Alive. Not in the best mental place right now." 

"She gets aggressive when she's pissed." 

"Yeah, I know," I answer quietly. My eyes flicker down to my feet and I know I must look guilty or shameful because I can sense a change in Krista. It's like she's having a sudden realization. 

"Did you . . ." Krista begins and my breath catches in my throat as I look back up at her, barely able to meet her gaze. She trails off quietly, staring at my face. 

"Buffy?" Diane interrupts and I couldn't be more grateful if I tried. I quickly stand up and notice that she's done patching up Krista's leg. "Do you think I could talk to you for a second?" 

I nod and steal a look down at Krista but her eyes are closed now. I can't tell if it's because she's tired or because she can't look at me. Brushing a few strands of damp hair from her forehead, I finally step away from her and join Diane at the back of the tent where none of the girls are loitering. 

"Everything went okay, so far as I can tell," she says before I can even ask. "The bleeding has stopped and I think it will all heal nicely, so long as she can fight off any infections that may creep in." 

"Why do I feel a ‘but' coming on?" I ask. 

"But," Diane says with a wry smile, then sighs deeply, "her healing won't kick in if she doesn't have the energy for it, and she won't have the energy because we're running out of food. Something needs to give, Buffy. That was my last emergency medical supply kit and the girls are down to one meal a day, if cereal bars and beef jerky can be considered a meal. If the guards expect us to fight, they need to give us more supplies." 

"Maybe that's just it," I say quietly. "Maybe they don't want us around any longer." 

"If that was the case, they would have let all four of you die out there and not just Jo." 

And that's very true. If the four of us were out of the way, the camp wouldn't last long. Morale would die. 

"We need to ask Faith to talk to them again. They listen to her because they know that she keeps everyone in line. Without Faith here, there would have been revolts ages ago. There'd be no girls left because every uprising would have been crushed, and then the guards and the demon clan would have had no entertainment. They need us to fight, Buffy." 

"I think you can count Faith out right now," I say quietly and a look of realization crosses Diane's face. 

"Is she self-destructing?" 

"More or less," I shrug. Vague is good. "I'll talk to the guards. If they know that Faith and I are the higher-ups, maybe they'll hear me out." 

"Buffy, you may be the original slayer, but you don't have the pull around here like Faith does. It's taken her a long time to find a way of dealing with the guards that doesn't result in them beating her or any of us down." 

"Well, we don't have much choice right now," I answer almost defensively. "The girls need food and supplies and Faith has mentally and emotionally checked out. We either make do with what we have or we let me try to get something done." 

Diane gazes into my eyes for several long moments and finally nods. There's blood on her forearms from where the rubber gloves she was using didn't cover and I can tell that she's in need of a shower almost as badly as I am. 

"Thank you, for saving Krista," I say after a moment. 

"I wish we weren't under the circumstances where people need saving," she replies, then laughs to herself and shakes her head. "I'll keep an eye on things here and make sure Krista settles in. You've got some cuts and scrapes but nothing serious. Grab a shower and come see me; we'll take care of the worst of the cuts." 

"I'll be fine. Save the supplies for girls who need it," I tell her, giving her a small smile. "I'm gonna go see if I can find any guards that are willing to listen. Have you seen Shy?" 

"The only girl I've seen since Krista was brought in is Krista. Shy's probably out with the other girls in the yard somewhere." 

"Okay, I'll find her." 

I head off into the yard and don't waste any time looking for Shy. There are girls crying and comforting each other and I know I should say something but I don't have it in me right now. I need to find Shy and then I need to find a way to convince the guards to listen and not hurt me after Faith's little show of retaliation in the arena. 

It only takes me a few minutes to find Shy, resting back on her blankets in one of the dorm tents. She looks up at me but she already knows why I'm there. The small wooden box already sitting at her side lets me know that much. 

"Faith is waiting for you in the showers," I tell her quietly. She nods and moves to stand but I step closer, stopping her. "Before you go, do you think I can . . . would you," I clear my throat, "I'd like to remember Jo, too." 

Shy looks wary for a moment or two as she stares up at me. Eventually she moves off of her blankets and indicates for me to lay down. I do, on my back, and lift up my shirt so that the skin of my lower abdomen is exposed. 

"This . . . will hurt," she says simply as she opens up the box and pulls out a wooden stick with a needle affixed to the end of it. 

"Losing someone always hurts," I say, watching as she lights a small white candle and runs the needle through the flame several times, sterilizing it. She pulls a small well of black ink out and pulls out the plastic stopper. "Sometimes remembering them hurts even more." 

"That is true," Shy agrees. She swipes an alcohol swab over my stomach several times in small circles, making sure the area is clean. "Remembering hurts, but it lessens over time. Then we are left with only memories. Are you ready?" 

Taking a deep breath, I prepare myself as much as possible. I watch as she pulls a wide, flat piece of wood from the kit, then positions the needle against my skin after giving it a quick dip in the ink. She looks into my eyes and I nod. A moment later she starts tapping the stick with the flat piece of wood and the needle pierces my skin again and again. It's a long process, not nearly as quick and easy as the automatic needles in tattoo shops, but she works methodically to get the job done. I try to distract myself, looking over each and every one of her tattoos that I can see on her exposed skin. They're all beautiful tribal art and I know she can't have done them herself. 

"My grandfather taught me," she says as if reading my mind. "I was his living canvas." 

"They're beautiful," I say, wincing as she puts the needle back to my skin after another swim in the ink. 

"As will yours be." 

It's maybe an hour or two later and she finally lets me sit up. My skin is swollen and red, but I can already tell that I'm going to like my new artwork. I touch the area lightly with my fingertips and close my eyes. 

_Jo._

"Faith will be angry with me for making her wait," she says as she blows out the candle and re-packs the items in the wooden box. 

"Just tell her it was my fault." 

"I will tell her only that pain has no priority. We all feel it. She grieves as the rest of us do; we simply deal with it differently. She takes it to a dark place now because she is losing hope. We all are." 

I try to speak but I find myself lost in thoughts. That was the most I've ever heard Shy speak the entire time I've been here, and boy was it a mouthful. By the time I finally manage to gather myself, I look over and she's gone. 

Shaking my head slightly, I leave the tent and head out into the yard and in search of the guards. Like Shy said, everyone is losing hope. Maybe if I can get them more food and better care in the infirmary, they'll start to feel better about things. 

I hope so, because I don't know what else to try. 

* * *

It's been almost a week now since Jo's memorial the night after she died. The guards had been kind enough – sarcasm intended there – to wheel her body in on an old cart for us to give our last goodbyes to. Seeing her like that was like being stuck in a nightmare. They weren't able to find her hand that Faith had severed because some sneaky demon had hopped down from the stands and stolen it as some kind of gruesome souvenir. 

I don't even want to know what he did with it. 

We were all sitting out in the yard, just mourning in quiet. No one was prepared to see Faith come walking out into the yard, her face devoid of any emotion except anger. She walked right up to Jo and just looked down at her for several long minutes. No one spoke. We barely breathed. I braced myself for some kind of an outburst, but it never came. Instead, her anger melted away and she just looked so sad. So defeated. She reached out and put her hand over Jo's heart, then walked back towards her room without saying anything or even sparing a glance at anyone. 

A couple of the girls jumped up and tried to get her attention but it was no use. She'd closed herself off again. I don't think she was planning on ever coming back into the camp properly. 

Which is exactly why everyone has been bugging me ever since then to go and speak to her. 

"Buffy, you have to," Hazel says for what seems the millionth time, sitting at my side while Laura blocks me in from the other. 

"It's not a good idea," I reply, still eating my breakfast. They've caught me in the food tent every morning since Jo's memorial. 

And yes, we have breakfast food. Surprisingly, the guards listened to my request for more food and med supplies and had a truck full of crates and boxes brought to us the next day. The girls were busy sorting and doing inventory with it for the last few days and it was a great distraction, but now that the work is done, they're back to bugging me again. 

"But you have to!" Laura says, echoing Hazel's sentiment from a moment before. 

"Guys, listen," I begin, pushing my chair back so that I can speak to both of them at once. "Faith has shut down. Nearly everyone here has gone and tried to lure her out, but she's not biting. I won't have any more luck than the rest of you have." 

"Yes you will, you guys have history together," Hazel tries. 

"Yeah, and it's mostly bad." Seeing the pleading look on their faces, I continue. "I was with Faith when she lost it after Jo died. She's not going to just bounce back, and me being around her? That'd probably make her worse. Faith and I have a way of just setting each other off without even trying." 

"It's because of the sexual tension," Laura says innocently, but when I look at her with my eyes wide, she quickly adds, "not that we've noticed any sexual tension between the two of you." 

I stand up and head back out into the yard, grabbing an extra bowl of oatmeal as I pass by the table at the front. Hazel and Laura are hot on my heels though, along with one or two other girls now. When I walk faster, they speed up as well. They're not going to let this go, and they're getting more persistent every day. 

"Buffy, we need her back. She's been here since the beginning and now she's not and everyone feels all wiggy about it," Hazel tries. 

Just as I reach one of the dorm tents, I spin around to face them, offering them as pleasant a smile as I can muster. 

"The wiggyness is an unfortunate side effect, but I'm the last person Faith wants to see right now if she's trying to stop herself from having a mental breakdown. If – no, when she decides to end her isolation, we'll talk things through then. Now get out there and run the girls through some training. Arena tomorrow night." Before they can get in another word, I slip inside the tent and pull the canvas flap shut behind me. I know it would do nothing to keep them out if they really want in but I'm hoping they get the hint. I close my eyes and listen carefully, sighing with relief when I hear them shuffle away across the dry dirt. 

"They're right, you know," comes a voice from behind me. I turn around to see Krista laying back on her blankets, propped up on her elbows so she can look up at me. 

"Don't you take their side!" I warn her playfully as I kneel down on my blankets just next to hers and hand her the bowl of oatmeal. Her leg is healing but she's still having a hard time moving around. Bed rest it is. 

"Hey, I'm completely sideless," she says as she stirs the spoon around inside the bowl distastefully. "But they're right. Faith was here from the beginning and the girls see her as our leader. I mean, they respect you too, Buff, but it doesn't matter if the guards give us champagne and filet mignon. Without Faith, it's all empty to them." 

I take a deep breath and sigh because I know she's right. Still, it doesn't make me want to deal with Faith any more than I already _don't_. 

Snatching the bowl back from her, I stand up and ignore her shouts of protest. 

"Fine. I'll go and talk to her, but if anything bad happens, I can't be held responsible!" 

Oh god, this is gonna go so bad. 

"But why are you taking my breakfast?" Krista asks, slightly amused now. 

"Because I'm mad at you!" 

I turn around and stomp out of the tent, ignoring the way Hazel and Laura are jumping around excitedly alongside me. Yeah, I should have known that they wouldn't go too far from me. A couple girls look up as I walk across the yard and they smile. They think that I'm gonna bring Faith back to them. 

Hell, I don't even know if I'll make it out alive. 

We start making our way down the corridor to Faith's room and I stop, turning to face the few girls that are following along. Laura takes the bowl of oatmeal from my hands and greedily digs into it as soon as I start talking. 

"Okay, this is the deal. You guys stay out here, and no matter what you hear, don't come running in. I can handle Faith if she lashes out but I don't want any of you getting caught up in the fray. Keep some distance. I'll be back soon." 

Without another word, I turn around and make my way down the rest of the corridor, stopping only when I'm outside the door. Bobb-o looks excited to see me. He fumbles with his iron key ring and quickly unlocks the door for me, trying to make me feel welcome. I think he's just pretty excited to see me too; he's been glued to Faith's side since Jo died and I don't think she's doing much talking or visiting with him. 

"Bee come to see Faith?" 

"Yeah, that's the plan," I say tentatively, keeping my voice down. "How has she been?" 

Bobb-o does what I can only describe as a shrug and indicates the door. He obviously wants me to go in. I take a deep breath and steel myself. I can do this. 

"Faith?" I give the door a couple knocks and listen for a reply. Suddenly I'm yanked inside and pressed against the wall next to the door. Faith is right in front of me, holding me tightly by my shirt and keeping me right where she wants me. 

"What are you doin' here?" she practically snarls. 

"I'm fine, thanks for asking!" Seeing her eyes darken, I continue, "The girls asked me to come and talk to you." 

Faith makes a sound like a buzzer going off and says, "Wrong answer! Thanks for playing. Buh-bye now." 

Her lips are dry and she's noticeably skinnier, which I guess means she hasn't been eating much if any of the food we've sent her. She's self-destructing, fast. This needs to end. 

"Wait, don't shut me out like that. Let's just talk." 

It seems like she's pondering that for a moment and her eyes scan up and down my body, taking in all of me. 

"Don't much feel like talking," she mumbles, her hands loosening from their grip on my shirt and moving to slide down my sides. Her thumbs trace small circles on my hips, making my shirt ride up a little. 

"Then I'll talk, you listen," I say, my throat tight as I try to ignore her touch. 

Hey, if all it takes is a little over-the-clothing groping to get her to listen? I can handle that. It's so much better than the smackdown I was imagining. 

"Yeah, I'll just listen," she says, her voice a whisper as her lips curl up in a grin. "You talk, and I'll . . . keep my mouth busy." 

It's hard to concentrate as her hands continue to travel over my abdomen, sides, and now thighs, but I shake my head and focus. I should stop her, but then she won't hear me out. 

"The . . . the girls," I say, my voice shaking as she drops down to her knees and lifts my shirt up enough so that her nose grazes my stomach. She kisses and licks, then stops completely when she gets to my new tattoo. I take advantage and continue, "The girls need you, Faith." 

Suddenly her lips start moving again but she drops my shirt back down so that the tattoo is hidden. I guess she can't face what happened yet. 

"Oh yeah, we're just a fucking happy and pleasantly-stocked little death camp here," she says as her hands trail over my thighs over the material of my pants. 

"You said you were gonna hear me out," I accuse and she lifts up her hands in surrender . . . then uses them to pull down my cotton pants. 

"By all means, don't stop on account of me." Her voice is husky and full of want. 

I clear my throat and take a deep, shaky breath. I didn't sign up for this! 

"It doesn't matter if we have food or medical supplies; they look up to you," I continue, taking in a sharp breath when I feel her lips graze over my panties. My hands find the wall behind me and I tilt my head back, giving it a quick bang on the wall. It doesn't knock any sense into me though because I don't seem to be telling her to stop. 

"I'm kinda enjoyin' looking up to you for a change," Faith says, and when I look down at her, her eyes fix on mine when she pulls my panties to the side and takes a long, languorous swipe along my slit. 

"Jesus, Faith!" I nearly shout, my hands trying to grip onto the hard wall behind me. "That's not hearing me out!" 

"No, it's eating you out," she says, taking another few licks. "But you already knew I wasn't gonna listen." Her tongue goes back to work and I feel her hands on my inner thighs, pressing against them so that I have to step apart. "Good girl," she mumbles against me, and then I feel her really dive in. 

And I do mean dive in, two fingers deep. 

"Unnghh, Faith," I groan, my hips moving against her eager mouth. 

She pulls it away and says, "What B, run outta things to talk about already?" 

"No," I grunt in reply and gather all my strength to continue, "but once I start using your ears as handles, you won't be able to hear me anyway." 

She laughs against me and picks up the pace of her tongue, sliding it over my clit again and again as she thrusts her fingers deep inside of me. I feel myself slowly starting to lose control – not that I really had any control in this situation to begin with – and I start breathing hard and fast, trying to keep quiet. 

Faith changes the angle of her fingers after a few minutes and my mouth drops open wide as my eyes clench tightly shut. 

"Oh fuck, Faith!" I cry out. 

Oh god, I'm never gonna be able to look at Bobb-o in the eye again! 

I feel my myself clench around her fingers and she stills them, letting me ride out my orgasm. My highly unexpected and very inappropriate orgasm. I flex my fingers and . . . when did they grab onto her head? I was kidding about the whole ears thing! 

Suddenly Faith's mouth starts moving again and I jerk forward, using my hand to push her head away. She grins as she looks up at me, my juices covering her chin. Brushing her thumbs over her lips and chin, she cleans herself off and then stands up to come face to face with me. Her fingers catch my pants as she stands and she pulls them up, stopping when they're appropriately back on my hips. 

I gasp when she slides her hand down the front of them and slips my panties back over properly, then cups her hand over me. Her lips are just a couple of inches from mine when she whispers, "Did ya come hard?" 

I'm not really used to such crude talk – well not since Spike, anyway – so I don't say anything. She rubs her fingertips softly over me and my mouth falls open again, my breath shaky and quick. 

"Did ya come hard?" she asks again. 

I can only nod in response. Her breath is warm on my face and her lips keep getting closer and closer to mine. I wait for her to close the distance and I'm not surprised when she does . . . but her lips never quite make their way to mine. 

Instead I feel her reach over just to my side to grab the door handle. She pulls the door open and stands back, giving me room to exit. 

"Thanks for the chat, B. Hope ya enjoyed my conversational skills." 

My mouth snaps shut and my stomach churns. If I walk away, she wins, but I don't know what else there is to say. I don't think she'd let me say it even if I could. 

Taking one last moment to arrange my clothes properly, I walk out of her cell, completely avoiding Bobb-o's gaze. I do the walk of shame back to the camp and prepare myself for the barrage of questions that are likely to follow. 

Yes, Hazel, I talked to Faith. 

No, Laura, it didn't go so well. 

Yes, Buffy, you are an idiot. 

What was I thinking?


	13. Chapter Thirteen

We're back in my old bedroom in Sunnydale, neatly tucking the sheets on my bed and smoothing them out so there are no wrinkles. They're fresh and warm from the dryer and the scent washes over me, summer and clean cotton and _home_. I know it's a dream but I'm happy to go along with it. It's nice to be out of the doom and gloom of the real world, even if only for a few minutes.

Even if I know everything will hurt even more when I open my eyes and realize that it was all a lie. 

Faith looks up and gives me a genuine smile. 

"Still love the way they smell," she says and I can't help but nod. 

"Nothing beats the smell of clean sheets." 

"Well, I don't know about that," she says, her smile becoming a little bit predatory now as she starts to walk around the bed toward me. "I've always thought you smell about a thousand times better." 

She walks right up into my personal space and all but buries her face in the crook of my neck, breathing in slow and deep. I can't help but tilt my head to the side, giving her more space to graze her nose and lips again. Her lips, barely parted, close softly over my neck and I shudder. 

"Kind of senseless, putting these sheets on the bed if we're not even gonna put them to good use," she says, her voice husky and tickling my neck. 

"Sheets are for warmth," I remind her. 

"Yeah, and I bet we can warm them up real nice." 

The next thing I know, she lowers me down onto the soft mattress and crawls up over me, keeping her body just an inch away from mine. Her hair falls around her face like a curtain and hides us away from the rest of the world, her lips just teasingly out of reach. 

"Kiss me," I whisper, my fingertips sliding under the bottom of her shirt to grip at her sides. 

"It's not possible," she whispers back, her brow suddenly furrowing. "Neither of us is here nor there. Minds without bodies, all jacked up in the head. So close but so far away." 

"No," I reply back, shaking my head and moving my hands to the back of her neck so I can pull her down to me. "No riddles; just kiss me. Let's just stay here. We don't have to go." 

"You'll wake up with regret," she says, pulling back even further. "This isn't real. None of it is." 

"It's the realest thing I've felt in so long. So long." 

My heart races in my chest as she lowers her head back down and brushes her lips over mine. Before I can even properly kiss her back though, she lifts her head back up and looks down into my eyes. 

_"Beep beep beep!"_

I almost laugh and ask her why she's imitating a car horn but I feel the edges of the dream start to blur. Before she completely disappears, I pull her back down and kiss her with all I'm worth. 

Suddenly her lips are gone and when I open my eyes, I'm back in the world I know. I'm laying on my back in a mostly dark room, a lumpy cot underneath my back rather than the soft mattress that was there in my dream. My heart is still racing and I bring my hand up over it, willing it to slow down. My skin is still sticky with sweat and I wonder how long I've been sleeping. 

I'm not supposed to be napping. 

That isn't something that's allowed. 

As if on cue, the door to Faith's room opens and I look up just in time to see her strolling in, hair wet from the shower. She pauses for a moment when she sees me still here, unsure of what to do next. We've never run into this problem before. 

See, I'm used to seeing her leave. For the past five weeks, ever since she . . . did that to me . . . in her room, things have gotten a little bit . . . well, complicated. 

Actually, for Faith, it's completely un-complicated. She stays in her room and ‘fucks me' whenever I happen by. When we're done, she kicks me out, or she goes and takes a shower and expects me to be gone by the time she gets back. We've never run into any issues before. We come, I go. That's the unspoken rule. 

But today Faith wore me out for almost three hours. I had every intention of getting up and leaving when she stepped out, but I closed my eyes for a split second and I fell asleep. Whether that's because she tired me out today or because she tired me out when I went for a shower before bed last night, I'm still not sure. 

We've been doing this - whatever this is - more and more often. To be honest, I didn't plan for it to happen again after the first time in her room. Hell, I hadn't even planned on it happening after our first time in the shower. I wasn't sure I'd wanted it to happen at all in the first place. When I left her room that day, I felt ashamed and dirty. All of the girls wanted to know what happened but I just told them we fought. 

I really didn't know what had happened between us, honestly. 

But the next day, she caught me in the shower and said . . . well, some really dirty things. And she was crude and my first instinct was to lash out. I didn't though. I hadn't really connected with someone like that in so long, and even though I knew it was illicit and wrong, I gave in. 

I just needed the contact and that emotional bond that usually comes with sex. 

But Faith tries to keep that from happening. She's still closed off; carrying around her emotional baggage from Jo's death. She hit her breaking point and she hasn't bounced back. I don't know what can even make that happen; if it's even possible. Her life is separate from the camp now, and she keeps whatever we have down to just sex; no emotions, no strings. We fuck and I leave; that's the way she likes it. 

And me? I need the connection, no matter how fucked up it might be. The girls in the camp are my friends, and I help them and talk to them. But what I have with Faith; it sates a primal need that all humans crave, I think. Maybe I'm wrong for letting it happen, but I can't help myself now. I'm in here every chance I get, and she's pulling me away from the others every time I walk by. 

Needless to say, pretty much everyone in the camp knows something's going on now but I don't give in to their suspicions. I've lost my freedom, my family, my dignity; I'm going to keep what little shreds of privacy that I can. 

A few seconds pass and Faith finally makes up her mind. She strolls into the room, letting the door close behind her. Ignoring me, she heads on over to the small table near the toilet and picks up an old hairbrush, running it through her long brown hair. 

"Not supposed to be here," she says plainly, her back to me. 

"I fell asleep." 

There. That's all the explanation she's getting. I'm not going to feel bad for falling asleep after the few hours we spent together on this cot. I'm kinda surprised that she didn't pass out too. 

"Yeah, well . . . since you're up and all, you know where the exit is." 

She lifts her shirt off and pulls a spare from over the back of a chair, putting it on casually. When it's on, she just stands there and waits, refusing to turn around. I guess that's my cue. 

"I certainly do," I grumble as I sit up, feeling around for my clothes. I find them without much hassle and get dressed with my back to Faith. 

When I'm nearly done pulling on my pants, I laugh a little to myself. God, we must be quite the picture. Her back's to me, my back's to her, and we're both a couple of chickens. I'm afraid to try to stay and she's afraid to let me. 

Not that I'm dying to stay in here with her or anything. When we're not having sex, she's pretty much busy being a grade-A bitch to everyone around her, including Bobb-o. She sure knows how to turn on and off at the flip of a switch. I just . . . it's easier to be here with Faith than to deal with everything else. I can't explain it; it just is. 

Sighing, I knock on the door so Bobb-o will unlock it and wait, my back still turned to Faith. 

"So," she hedges, "you gonna grab a shower before ya go to bed later?" 

And I know exactly what she wants. She wants to meet me there and have her way with me. Again. While it's normally a tempting offer, I'm feeling a bit peeved at being kicked out now while I was so comfortable. 

"I think I'll go take one now," I say evenly. "Get in bed early tonight. My nap was cut short." 

There's complete silence and I'm pretty glad she can't see my smirk. After a few seconds I hear the lock click and the door opens enough for me to see Bobb-o smiling impishly at me. You know; if giant blubbery demons can even look impish. 

But before I can walk out, the force of Faith crashing into me from behind forces the door shut with me pressed against it and Faith against my back. Her breath is warm on my neck and I have to try so hard to keep my body from reacting. We never kiss after sex, we never hug; there's no cuddling to speak of. It's always about the hot and heavy and heat with us. No soft stuff, no emotions. 

At least for Faith. 

"Playing hard to get?" she asks, her mouth close to my ear. When I don't reply, she continues, pressing even more against me. "Don't play like you don't want it, B. I know you do." 

I turn around in the non-existent space between us and look up into her dark eyes. She's smirking like she's already won. 

"What you give me, I can get from any person out in that camp," I say, my voice low as I get closer to her face, challenging her. 

"That right?" 

"Sure is." 

Neither one of us is backing down now. She's sure that she's the shit, but the only thing I'm sure of is that she's sure I'm bluffing. Truth is, I am. There may be other girls in the camp but the only one I'm interested in is the stubborn one in front of me right now. As much as I like and get along with the other girls, I only feel that connection with Faith. It's just something about the two of us; it has always been this way and probably always will be. 

She's staring deep into my eyes now, completely silent. She's waiting for something; waiting for me to talk or make a move. I can't though. I can't let her think I need her more than she needs me. 

"Are we done here?" I finally ask, eyebrows raised and defiant. 

Faith doesn't say anything. She just looks at me for a few more seconds before stepping back and pulling the door open with one hand, then gesturing for me to go through it with the other. I walk out without another word but turn to face her when I'm just on the other side of it. 

"Don't forget, arena tomorrow night, and hey, I have this crazy idea." My sarcasm is apparent and Faith moves to close the door, but I step forward and catch it with my hand. "Just hear me out. How about instead of sitting all alone at the side, you join the rest of the girls and let them know you still give a damn about them?" 

"Hey, I've got an even better idea," she says with false enthusiasm. "How ‘bout you suck my dick?" 

The door slams in my face and I'm torn between shock and laughing. I settle for laughing when I hear Bobb-o tittering behind me. I turn and look at him and he has his big meaty hand over his mouth, covering his smile. 

"Dick!" he laughs. 

"No, Bobb-o, don't copy Faith," I laugh, putting my hand on his arm. "She'll start saying some really funky things if she knows you're mimicking her." 

"Sorry, Bee," he says, trying to cover his smile again. 

"It's okay. Are the girls in the camp?" 

"Girls practice," he replies and I sigh. 

As much as I really don't feel like being social right now, I know that I have to be out there with them. There are a couple girls who aren't dealing so well since Jo's death and they need something to focus on to get past it. The entire camp has been training longer, working harder, and just trying to be their best. 

And the best part about that? I haven't had to force them into it. They know they all need to be strong now. 

I make my way out to the camp and down the central tunnel to the arena. The sun is bright and hot, I'm already sweaty and in desperate need of a shower, and I may have just pushed Faith away for good. 

Just another day in paradise. 

* * *

Training went off without a hitch. In fact, pretty much the rest of the day did. Even though I said I wasn't going to, I went to the showers last night before bed, hoping to run into Faith there. Krista tried to keep me in the camp with the rest of the girls; they like to be around each other on the nights before fights and she told me I should be there. My conscience knew she was right, but I guess my body had other plans because I walked away when she told me she needed to talk to me, promising that we'd catch up today. 

Needless to say, I'm still trying to avoid that chat. 

After Faith's no-show, I made my way back to the camp fully determined not to let Krista yell at me for it. She's not dumb; she knows where I've been going and what I've been up to. 

I just don't think I can take her disapproval right now. 

Instead of going to my usual tent – which happens to house an increasingly unhappy Krista - I snuck into one of the other tents with a different group of girls and hid out there for the night. It was weird not having Krista to talk with but I wasn't ready for any kind of lecture she's preparing to give me. The longer I can go without it, the better. 

Now that it's morning, I know I'm going to have to go out into the camp and face the music. All of the slayers in the tent I crashed in are already up and out and I know I can't hide away in here for the rest of the day. Krista will find me and then I'll have nowhere to run to unless I bust out the back of the tent, leaving a Buffy-shaped hole in the canvas in my wake. 

After a quick morning stretch, I stick my head out of the tent to peek around and instantly come face to face with a disapproving Krista. 

"I can't believe you seriously hid out from me all night long," she says, arms crossed over her chest. 

Instead of showing how surprised I am to find her there waiting for me, I go for casual indifference and walk past her towards the cafeteria tent. 

"And I can't believe you're stalking me this early in the morning!" I say as I pass by, my voice barely above a whisper so we don't make a scene. 

Sure enough, I hear footsteps behind me trying to catch up and then we're walking side by side. She doesn't say anything for a moment, instead trying to come up with a new plan of attack. Clearly, ambushing me didn't work. 

"I'm not stalking you," she finally says as we enter the big canvas tent, grateful for the brief respite from the bright morning sun. "I've been trying to talk to you for the last couple days but you keep running off every chance you get or you just plain hide from me like I'm wearing some kind of Buffy-repellent." 

"I wasn't hiding," I tell her as I grab one of the brown trays and get into the short line. "It was late. I was tired. I just wanted to sleep." 

"That's fine, Buffy. I get it. But you need to know what's been going on in the camp when you haven't been here." 

"I'm always here," I tell her, my brow furrowed in a combination of confusion and annoyance. 

I don't like where this is headed. 

"Maybe. But you're not always exactly . . . available." 

Yep. Definitely not liking where this is going. Still going for casual, I move along with the line and grab the first bowl of oatmeal that I can reach. Instead of putting it on my tray, I place it on hers, then grab another one for myself. I glance over and meet her gaze. 

"So fill me in." 

Sighing with relief, she follows me over to one of the empty tables near the back and sits in the chair at my side. "You know that the girls have been working really hard lately. Training extra, pushing harder . . ." 

"That's a good thing," I tell her, then swallow a bit of my oatmeal. 

"Yeah, it is," she continues. "They're stronger. Determined. More confident . . ." 

"Again, all good things. Not seeing the problem here." 

". . . and they're tired of being scared," she finishes. She doesn't have to say anything more. I know what she's getting at. 

The girls are getting tired of this situation. In fact, they're beyond tired with it. They're tired of watching each other die off one by one and they're ready for a change. Ready to take action; to do what it takes to get out of here. They're training. They're preparing. 

But preparing for what? 

It's not a good idea. Even if we beat the insurmountable odds and get out of here; then what? A hundred girls with no food, no weapons, and no place to go, set on roaming an earth that we don't know anything about anymore. The odds of surviving out there are worse than they are in here. 

"It's too risky," I say, shaking my head lightly as I stare into my bowl of oatmeal. 

"Any riskier than staying here?" she asks, scooting closer and lowering her voice to a whisper. "Buffy, we're dying off. How long before we're extinct? Not just us but the entire human race?" 

"And you think a ragtag group of a hundred teenage girls is going to change that?" I ask cynically. 

"We're not ragtag," she says defensively and I know I've said the wrong thing. "We're slayers just like you, Buffy. Just like Faith. We're young but we've all seen the same things you have while here. I'm not gonna run out and try to lead the girls, Buffy, but they're not gonna just sit around like this much longer." 

I sigh deeply and put my spoon down, then face Krista fully. A few girls are looking in our direction now so I get closer to her and drop my voice down as low as I can without whispering. 

"Krista, I know we all want out. The fact remains that we don't know what's happening out there," I nod to the area behind me; to what lays beyond the tent and the walls of the stadium. "No one can give us any info. Is it just California that's affected? The United States? The world? There's no resistance that we know of; no one has ever been saved or rescued. How long after we break out until they come after us? How long until they get other clans after us?" 

"Then we'll kill them all," she says, determined, and I can't help but scoff. 

"If that's even possible, we'll lose more than half the girls before we get our first breath of freedom." 

"But at least we'll have tried. At least some of us will be able to say we had that one last breath. We don't want to die as slaves." 

Again, I have to stop to think about it. Is it worse to sit here and wait for our deaths or to run into it headlong at our own choosing of place and time? Either way sounds horrible. I want to keep everyone safe; want to protect these girls that I've gotten to know since I've been here. But I can't protect them. 

I can lead them, but I can't force them to follow me. 

"If they're hell bent on starting some kind of blood and guts Spartacus-like revolution, there needs to be a plan. Research. Do not let them start anything until we can discuss this more." 

"When will that be? After our next game of hide and seek?" 

I know she's mad that I'm not all gung-ho about the mass-suicide plan but I can't help that. I won't let these girls jump into something like that without planning first. Without understanding that they're most likely signing their death warrants in doing so. 

"After the arena tonight. We'll talk then." 

"Buffy," she begins, sighing in what I can only describe as disappointment, "you know as well as I do that you're not gonna be spending the night with the rest of us tonight." 

She's right. I'm usually with Faith. This is important though. The girls need me, and I need to put what I want and need on hold so that I can be there for them. I have to be since Faith isn't anymore. 

"I'll be here. You have my word." 

Krista stares at me long and hard for a good minute before finally nodding. Without another word, she digs into her now cold oatmeal and tucks it away faster than I do mine. She doesn't linger once she's done; she heads out into the yard and right toward the group of girls who are waiting for her. After I finish my oatmeal, I take a deep breath and head out into the yard to help her. 

I can't hide away forever. 

* * *

**(Suggested Listening: Let The Flames Begin by Paramore)**

The crowd is roaring with excitement as we make our way out into the arena, dressed in the bits and pieces of armor that have gotten shoddier with every wear. Some girls don't even have wrist guards, but at least there are enough weapons to go around, placed at one of the side tables for us to choose from before the fight starts. The guards always make sure of that; it's not a show without weapons. 

We file into the area at the side of the ring designated for slayers and wait to see what's going to happen. It's not a tether match and there are no foes for us in the arena yet which is either a good thing or a really, really bad thing. 

I'm thinking it's the latter. There's no such thing as a good thing here. 

I glance up to the area where the bosses sit and it's still empty. Definitely bad. That means they're going to make an announcement or something big; they enjoy the spectacle of walking out to applause and cheers. Turning my head in disgust, I see Faith walking into the arena with Bobb-o at her side. He guides her over to an empty bench where she sits alone, completely disregarding the rest of us. She won't even look this way despite the handful of girls that are waving and calling to her. 

God, I could kill her right now. 

But now that she's here, I guess it's time to get things started. The demon bosses walk out into their area above with the proper pomp and circumstance, smiling and waving to the crowd. I don't have to look around me to know that every single slayer around me is glaring up at them, nothing but hate and defiance and rage in their eyes. I can feel it rolling off of them in waves. They're not scared little girls anymore. 

They're ready to stand up. 

They're ready to take their world back. 

And for the first time in as long as I can remember, I feel it too. It washes over me from the top of my head down to my toes, making my fists flex and my jaw clench tightly. I feel it coming from them; the want to be free; the need to fight. The need for something more than this. 

This is going to happen. We're going to get out of here. I'll find my friends, my family. We can change the world. We can make this right. We can . . . 

My breath hitches in my throat and I flinch when I see someone else walk out behind the bosses. He's here. He's here and he's staring right at me, smiling. My stomach churns and I feel my legs start to go weak. This can't be happening. 

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have a special guest with us tonight," one of the bosses speaks, his blood-red mouth smiling in the most horrific way. "He's traveled a far distance with some of his highest quality slayers to entertain us all. I present to you, Lord Nikolos!" 

And just like that, the vampire who ordered me beaten nearly every day for a year and a half and nearly starved me and every other girl in my old camp walks up to the microphone, his eyes never leaving mine. 

"Thank you for extending the invitation and for the wonderful introduction," he says, smiling viciously. "I see you've taken care of my most prized slayer very nicely. She's almost as good as yours is, I hear." 

I feel a hand on my arm but I don't need to look over to know that it's Krista, trying to keep me calm. I'm pretty sure I see Faith inching closer out of the corner of my eye but I'm too busy focusing on Nikolos to be sure. 

"I figured that, this being our big reunion, I should bring a gift for my former number one. If I can direct your attention up to the monitors . . ." 

Suddenly the monitor flickers on and I gaze over just in time to see Dawn pop up on the screen looking worse than ever. She's bruised, bloodied, and looking completely near death. I try to lunge forward – for what, I don't know – but I'm stopped by several of the girls. 

"You bastard!" I yell, making the crowd laugh and cheer. 

"It must be horrible, not knowing her fate," Nikolos taunts and the crowd grows even louder. He waits until they calm down again before continuing, his smile fading as his eyes bore into mine. "It's cruel, keeping you in suspense, isn't it? Well then, my gift to you, slayer." 

He nods to one of the demons who then says something into a small walkie-talkie. He keeps his focus on me but I can't help but look over to the screen when I see a large demon walking up behind Dawn with a sword in his hands. 

I lunge again and actually manage to break free from the girls . . . just as the sword enters Dawn from behind and comes through her abdomen. Her eyes widen and she looks right into the camera like she can see me. My name leaves her lips in a whisper and I fall to my knees, tears falling down my face. 

The crowd roars once again but I drown it out, unable to look away from the screen. Unable to understand what's happening. Unable to understand how the sword slides right through Dawn after a minute like she's made of air. Unable to understand why she's smiling and laughing. 

But when her façade fades and shifts before us all until I'm looking at a perfect replica of myself, I finally get it. 

I've been duped. I've been strung along this entire time. 

"Surprise! She's dead," my replica says, smiling smugly with her arms crossed over her chest. 

And I know she's right. After all, The First can only take the form of people who have died. 

The last thing I hear before a swarm of Nikolos' armed guards come in and surround me is the sound of Faith kicking and screaming while the other slayers are forcefully removed from the arena. 

If this is death, let it be swift. I hope it was for Dawn. 

I close my eyes as the blows start to land and wait for the end.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Everything is dark but I can make out the feeling of fingertips running through my hair and someone saying my name. My head is swimming and I want nothing more than to just sleep but the soft and tentative voice is relentless and I eventually open my eyes to see who's being so gentle with me. Nothing is ever gentle here.

Needless to say, I'm more than surprised when I see Faith looking down at me, nothing but concern in her eyes. Maybe a little bit of fear too. 

"B? Buffy, can you hear me?" she asks, her fingers stopping along the side of my head. 

When I try to move, I feel the cold concrete and tiles of the shower floor against my back and wince at the soreness in my muscles. I feel like I've been hit with a ton of bricks and subsequently buried beneath them while a small vehicle was parked on top. I take a quick glance around – oh god, head rush – and realize that my head is resting on Faith's lap. Her lip is split but healing and she has a really fresh bruise on her cheek. 

Still, somehow I think that the small river of drying red blood leading toward the shower drain a few feet away isn't hers. 

Faith must realize that I'm trying to figure out what's going on because she starts explaining before I can even ask what happened. 

"The other guards gave you a good beating," she says, her fingers starting to move through my hair again. It's a surprisingly calming gesture and I just stare up at her, looking into her troubled eyes. "I tried hard to get to you before they could do any real damage but our guards were holding me back. Killed two of them and gave three others a real whuppin' before I got to the guys that were beatin' you down. Did what I could but I had no weapons, yunno? Only reason we're here now is cos of Bobb-o. Big guy came charging in like a banshee and unleashed hell. Grabbed us before the guards could figure out what happened and ran us here." 

"Where is he now?" I ask, my voice hoarse and tired. 

Faith shrugs, her eyes glancing up to my forehead that she's stroking with her thumb. 

"Pretty sure he's in some kinda trouble. He hugged me, told me to be good, then put you across my lap so I could watch over you. That was two hours ago, ain't heard from him since." 

"You don't think he's . . ." I trail off, not wanting to say the words. 

"I dunno," she says softly, a hint of pain in her voice. Bobb-o was her friend. Mine too. 

And he saved us. 

I try to move again but the pain in my back and Faith's hand on my shoulder stop me. 

"Don't try to move, B. Not yet. You got hurt pretty bad and the doc said you need to just lay for a while. Slayer healing's working like a charm but it's gonna be all for shit if you tear open again." 

My brow furrows when she says that. 

"Tear open?" 

"Yeah," she says softly, her thumb brushing my hair back softly again. "Took a sword to the back. Didn't hit anything major so you'll be fine. Dee came a-runnin' in here with her emergency kit – her last one. The red stuff's supposed to stay on the inside, yunno? But it was leaking outta ya like crazy and your heartbeat was way too faint. She had to do an emergency transfusion." 

"How? From who?" I ask. I look down at my arm and sure enough, there's a piece of white gauze taped there. 

"Me. Universal donor right here," she says, trying to crack a smile as she nods down to her similarly bandaged arm. 

I look back up at her face and see the effort she's making to keep it together right now. Behind her quiet confidence is fear and pain and worry. I can't help it as I lift my arm and bring my fingertips to her split lip, touching it gently before sliding them up to her bruised cheek to caress it softly. 

Something passes between us when I gaze into her eyes and her breath catches in her throat. She shakes it off though and takes a deep breath before sliding her mask back into place. 

"Sorry that ya got my blood runnin' through you now, but it was either that or death. I couldn't let that happen." 

And suddenly I remember why I'm here in the first place. What happened out in the arena. I slip my hand down from her face and cover my mouth, trying my best to hold in the sob that's fighting its way up my throat. 

"Dawnie . . ." I manage to get out before the sob escapes, echoing horribly in the empty shower. 

Suddenly Faith's arms are around me and she's holding me against her chest, rocking me slightly as I cry against her skin. The pain in my back is intense but it's nothing compared to the pain in my chest. It's unbearable, like someone stabbed a red hot blade inside my heart and is slowly turning it, tearing me open with every rotation. Every breath hurts. 

"It'll be okay, B," Faith whispers, her lips against the top of my head. 

"No, it won't be," I cry. "She's dead, Faith. They're all dead! There's no one out there waiting for us. Don't you understand that? We're going to die in here." 

"No we're not," she promises, holding me tighter. "There are still good guys, B. We don't know who's alive or how far this whole thing reached." 

"We do. Yes we do. Evil won and the good guys are going extinct. What's left to fight for?" 

Faith puts her hands on my shoulders and pushes me back just enough so she can look down at my face. She swipes her thumbs awkwardly over my cheeks and wipes away my tears. 

"There's always a reason to fight. Always something worth fighting for." 

"Then why was it so easy for you to shut down when Jo died, hmm?" I ask, still crying. "She was your friend, Faith. Dawn was my sister. And she's been dead this whole time, but they blackmailed me with her; turned me into a killer so that I would keep fighting for her." 

"You're not a killer," she says, swiping more of my tears away and wiping them off on her thighs. "And I shut down because it's what I do. What I've always done. Sometimes it's easier than dealing. I'm not gonna shut down now though, B. I'm here – for you, with you – side by side. We can get past this. We can make things right." 

Maybe this is what I needed when Krista was talking about rising up. Maybe I needed Faith by my side, telling me that things would be okay. That we could make it. 

But I don't believe that anymore. Nothing is okay. And we're never getting out of here. 

"Fuck!" I finally whisper after a few moments of silence, shaking my head gently. The tears keep falling and I close my eyes, giving in to the sadness that's quickly taking over me. 

To the sense of finality in all of this. 

Faith wraps her arms around me again but instead of just holding on like before, she stands up with my body against hers. My legs are too weak to stand right now so she swoops one of her arms under my knees until she's holding me like a princess. She winces a little, obviously still in pain from her fight, but she straightens up and looks down at me. 

"You feel good enough for me to carry you like this?" 

"No," I whisper, my tears saturating her shirt. 

She carries me out of the shower anyhow and down the long corridor back to the camp. I half expect her to drop me off at my tent but instead, she stops at the door to her room where there's a new guard waiting. My heart hurts even more when I realize that Bobb-o isn't there for the first time since I've been in this camp. 

"I'm taking her in there with me," Faith says and the guard doesn't flinch or move in the slightest. "Listen buddy, get the fuck outta my way or I'll do to you what I did to your buddies earlier. Now either hold the door open or hit me so we can get this done." 

The guard eyes her warily before stepping over to the door and pulling it open. Faith carries me inside and lays me on the cot, oblivious to the way he's staring at us from the doorway. She makes sure I'm resting as comfortably as possible, then leans down so that she's near my face. 

"I'm gonna go and get Dee, have her come here and check ya over," she says softly. 

But terror grips me suddenly when I think of being left alone here, freshly wounded with the new guard on duty. What if he wants revenge for the guards Faith killed? 

"Don't leave," I whisper and grab one of her hands between both of mine. 

"I'll be right back," she promises, then does something I wasn't expecting. She leans in and gives me the softest kiss right on my lips, lingering there for nearly a minute. I hardly breathe the entire time and neither does she. 

It's one of only a few kisses she's given me since we started having sex, and it's by far the best of them. It even manages to take my mind off of how shitty things have gotten for a few brief seconds. 

When she finally pulls back and I open my eyes, she's already half way out the door. 

"Wait!" I call out. She pops her head back in and looks at me, confused. "Bring Shy." 

She stares at me for a second but then nods in understanding. I need to remember Dawn the same way Faith would a fallen slayer. She understands that. After a few seconds she disappears again and I close my eyes, trying to calm myself. The tears keep falling no matter how hard I try to keep myself in check. 

I should have known that it wasn't Dawn. They've been showing her to me all along and she was probably dead the whole time. I knew The First had won, so why didn't I realize for a second that It'd try to manipulate me like that? I let my emotions rule me and I played right into Its hand. Willow – she's probably gone by now too. Xander – god, I never even saw any signs of him. He probably didn't even make it out of the school. 

Swiping the back of my hand over my teary cheeks, I try to think of something else. Nothing works though. My mind is constantly on Dawn and my friends and I can't stop thinking how nice it would to be with them, wherever they are. How I'm going to die in this camp without them. 

How the only person I have left is Faith. 

I'm not sure how long I lay there with silent tears escaping down my cheeks and onto Faith's nearly flat pillow but it feels like forever. When Faith finally walks in with Diane, Krista, and Shy following after her, I sigh with relief. 

"How do you feel, Buffy?" Diane asks, taking my wrist into her hands so she can take my pulse. 

Krista looks over me with worry and Shy looks like she's trying to maintain her usual calm. Meanwhile, Faith squeezes onto the cot just behind Diane and takes my hand, holding it lightly in her hands. The small gesture surprises me; Faith has never been a touchy-feely kind of person. She still looks worried but she gives me a small smile and nods at me to answer. 

"Horrible," I finally reply. A few more tears escape but I wipe them away quickly when she releases my wrist. 

"Luckily for us the blade missed your heart, as well as your lungs and everything else that keeps you alive," Diane says as she encourages me onto my side so she can check out my wound. I feel her fingertips touch lightly around the area on my mid-back before she gives me the go-ahead to lie back down. "Also lucky for us that we've had a steady supply of food. Your slayer healing is top notch right now and doing its job nicely. Another few days and you'll be back to normal again. You're gonna be just fine." 

"Then why does it hurt so bad?" I ask and Diane furrows her brow in concern. 

"Where are you hurting, Buffy?" 

"Here." My voice hitches when I point to my chest and I can't hold back the sobs anymore. 

Before I can even manage to curl up on my side and pull the sheet up over my head to hide away, Krista squeezes onto the bed between Faith and I and pulls me up into her arms, hugging me gently. I continue to cry with my face pressed against her shoulder. Soon I feel Faith shift around on the cot until she's between me and the wall, her arms wrapping around me from behind. 

Diane just takes a seat on the edge of the cot and lays a gentle hand on my arm, rubbing it softly. 

"I'm so sorry, Buffy," she says. "Even though I can't begin to imagine how you feel right now, I know that you have lots of people here who care about you. We all love you and we want you to be okay. It's hard now but it'll get easier over time." 

"It hurts so much," I say, my voice quiet. 

"But you're a real tough cookie, B," Faith says, the strength she's offering me through simple touch unyielding. 

"You are, Buffy," Krista says with a nod. "And we're all here for you. You might feel alone but we're all on Team Buffy here." 

I don't know how long they sit here with me but Diane is eventually the first to leave, wanting to make sure that the rest of the girls are okay. Krista moves off the cot and sits on the chair across the small room, giving Shy the space she needs to get her kit set up. 

"Where would you like your tattoo, Buffy?" she asks. 

I look down at my body, trying to figure out where I'll always be able to see it. Where I'll always be able to look down and remember her. 

"Think I'm gonna get mine on my arm," Faith says, pointing to her previously un-tattooed forearm. "Then I'll be able to look down whenever I want, remember her." 

I look down at my own forearm, then up at Faith's face. 

"You're getting one too?" I hadn't thought she would . . . 

"Of course I am, B," she says easily. "Lil sis was a good kid. She deserves to be remembered, just like everyone else here." 

I stare into her eyes for a few seconds before Shy tries to get my attention again. 

"Buffy?" she asks. 

I pull my gaze away from Faith's and look back over to Shy, indicating my forearm as well. Shy nods in response and pulls out the wooden stick and needle, ready to begin. The alcohol prep pad is cool on my arm and the first pricks of the needle against my skin burn through the still damp alcohol. The pain is dull and easy compared to what's going on in my heart but I close my eyes anyhow, determined not to look down until it's finished. 

When Shy is done with me, she sterilizes the needle with some alcohol and a match before starting on Faith's arm. Neither of us really see the point; I have some of Faith's blood in me now so it's only fair she has some of mine in her – but Shy has a procedure and she follows it without fail. 

I was touched when Faith decided to get a tattoo also and I held her hand throughout, surprised that she let me. I'm even more surprised though when Krista hops up onto the cot after Faith's tattoo is done, wanting one of her own. 

"I know I didn't know her, Buffy," Krista says, gritting her teeth when the needle starts to slowly move across her skin. "But she lost her battle against the bad guys too, just like everyone else here that passed. Besides, if she's anything like you are, I know that she was a pretty awesome girl and definitely deserves to be remembered." 

Her words mean more to me than I can say and I grab onto her hand and hold it tightly, smiling at her with tears in my eyes. I keep hold of Faith's hand too and close my eyes, taking in a deep breath. My mind is awake but my body is tired and when I finally manage to open my eyes, I see that everyone has already gone back to the camp except for Faith. She's sitting on the chair which she pulled up to the cot and she's still holding my hand. Her head is resting back against the wall and her eyes are closed but she's not sleeping. 

I lay here and watch her for a few minutes, studying the curves of her face and every freckle and mole across her cheeks and jaw. She's still beautiful even when surrounded by all of this ugliness. I don't understand how that's possible. She must realize now that she's being watched because she opens her eyes and looks over at me, surprised to find me awake. 

"Hey," she says, her voice hoarse. "You should sleep some more." 

"How long was I out for?" I ask, trying to sit up a little. The wound on my back pulls and I wince, realizing that I'm not up to doing things on my own yet. 

"An hour or two," she says with a shrug. 

She leans forward on the chair and stretches with her arms up over her head, popping her shoulders and back loudly. I can tell that she's trying to work out the kinks in her body from sitting on the uncomfortable chair for that long without moving. I'm sure she'll be happy to have her cot back to herself. 

"Do you think you can help me back to the camp?" 

"Not a chance," she replies. 

"Umm . . . then do you think you can go and get Krista so she can help . . ." 

"B, you're an idiot," she interrupts me. "I meant that there was no chance of me helpin' ya back to the camp cos you're gonna stay here with me." 

I narrow my eyes at her a little bit, mostly because I don't understand but also because she called me an idiot. Staying isn't allowed. Granted that I'm hurt now, I'm still surprised that she's gonna let me stay. She's just full of surprises today though. She held my hand, she gave me a kiss; I guess that letting me stay is all just part of the pity package. 

"Faith, you don't have to do the whole pitying me thing," I tell her, pulling my hand away. 

She takes it back in hers and waits until I look back up into her eyes. 

"It's not pity, okay?" she says, then takes a deep breath and runs her free hand through her hair. "I mean . . . yeah, I feel bad. I feel really bad, B; not gonna lie about that. But I didn't ask ya to stay because I pity you. I asked you to stay because . . . Jesus, Buffy, you have no idea what fuckin' went through my head when I saw those guards coming for ya. They'd already tried to break you with what the First showed you and then they were gonna physically break you. I knew ya wouldn't fight back; not with what you'd just found out. And I couldn't stand the thought of losing you, B. Thinking that I'd have to be here without you, always wishing you'd walk back in that door; knowing that you'd never come in here again and let me be with you. Fuck, I just about lost my mind." 

"It would be better if I was gone," I whisper, tears filling my eyes again. "The First has it out for me, Faith. It's gonna keep gunning for me and everyone around me. It's what It does. It thrives on chaos and pain; maybe when I'm gone, It'll find a new toy to play with far away from here." 

"Don't even talk about being gone," she whispers, looking down at my face with such emotion behind her eyes. She brings her hand to my cheek and traces it with her thumb, touching me so gently that I can barely feel the caresses. "Me and the girls, we can handle whatever he throws at us. We're used to it. But without you . . ." she stops and shakes her head, taking in a deep breath, ". . . I don't even wanna think about it." 

We stare at each other for what feels like forever before she leans down and brushes her lips so softly over mine, filling my heart with something other than pain, even if only temporarily. I close my eyes and bask in the warm feel of her breath against my face, letting my hand rest softly on her cheek. 

"I'm sorry I was such a dick to you the last few weeks," she whispers against my lips, then turns her head to kiss my palm. 

"It's okay," I whisper back and gaze up into her eyes when she pulls away and looks down at me. 

"No goin' anywhere, ‘kay?" 

"Okay." 

Her nose brushes against mine and she crawls onto the cot, lying on her side next to me while I stay on my back. My hand finds hers and I close my eyes, feeling the stress of the day melt away just enough so that I can get some more sleep. 

It's the best night of sleep I have in over two years. 

* * *

"Oh, Faith," I sigh out, my body finally relaxing after teetering on the edge for what felt like ever. Faith is an expert at teasing; she brings me right to the edge and then pulls me back over and over again. When she finally pushes me over, it's like nothing I've ever felt before. 

And she totally knows that, judging by the way that she's smirking down at me now while I catch my breath. 

"Morning," she whispers against my lips before kissing me, letting me taste myself on her lips. Weirdly enough, it doesn't bother me. 

"Morning to you too," I mumble. She pulls away a little and I push her hair back so I can look up at her face. She's smiling down at me and I can't help but lean up to capture her lips in another kiss. 

Yeah, we pretty much got rid of all the rules. There's kissing. There's staying. And there's occasionally sweetness when Faith isn't too busy trying to act like her usual tough self. Then again, this has all been behind closed doors because I haven't been leaving Faith's room all that much. 

I'm still not in the best place mentally – at least that's what Faith has been telling everyone in the camp – and I feel at my best when I'm here with her. It's easiest to forget the hurt and the pain when Faith makes me feel so many other things, and I don't just mean through sex. 

Though I'm sure you can imagine that the sex is out of this world. 

The guards let me skip the next arena night a week after I was beaten, which was a complete surprise. Bobb-o, who was given his position back as Faith's guard, came to get her but made me stay in bed. Truth is, my wounds were fully healed by then and Bobb-o knew that. I was still having a hard time dealing with Dawn's death though and both he and Faith thought it was best that I didn't go out into the arena all distracted. 

Needless to say, I was pretty grateful. It hadn't been an easy fight night though. Instead of making the more experienced girls fight, the bosses arranged a fight between a few of the newer girls and some pretty nasty demons. We lost two girls before the last demon was dead. All of the girls have been in mourning this week and I know that firsthand because I left Faith's room the next day and spent as much time as I could with them before my emotions started to get the best of me. Hearing their stories of the fight and of the two young girls that were killed . . . it was too much for me. I wanted to be there for them but all I could think about was Dawn. 

All I could think about was how sad I still felt beneath it all. 

Faith was the only thing keeping me floating. 

So it was that day that Faith decided that I still needed to limit my time in the camp. We stay in her room most of the time and go out only for meals or to shower. Sometimes she goes out there alone to make sure that the girls are okay and handling the situation but she makes me stay in her room, far away from anything that will make me get any worse. The girls see us every day and most come over and say hello, but when Faith goes out there, she says that the girls are all secretive. She thinks they're all gossiping about us but neither of us really cares. 

She pulls back from the kiss and moves to sit on the edge of the cot so she can put her pants on. I try to pull her back under the sheets but she wriggles out of my reach and laughs when she stands up and faces me. 

"C'mon, B. Get out of bed so we can go for breakfast." 

"Do I have to?" I whine, leaning up on my elbows. 

"Yup." 

"Can't you like, bring me back something instead?" 

"What do I look like, room service?" she asks, grinning at me. 

I return her grin, "Well, you would look pretty hot in one of those little French Maid outfits." 

"Hussy!" She tosses my shirt over and it smacks me in the head. 

I guess that's my cue to get up. Sighing, I get up from the cot and start to get dressed. I manage to pull my shirt on just as Faith presses me against the door and looks into my eyes. 

"I won't make you if you don't feel up to it, B," she says seriously. 

"I'm fine," I tell her with a weak smile. 

"I'd never make you do something you don't wanna do." 

My smile grows bigger and I lean forward to give her a soft kiss before pulling back to look up into her eyes. "I know you wouldn't." 

She hesitates for a second, looking kind of nervous. Her fingertips push a stray strand of hair behind my ear and she bites on her lower lip before taking a deep breath. 

"You know that I . . ." she begins but is cut off when someone pounds on the other side of the door. 

My breath catches in my throat both from the surprise thumping against the door and from what I think she was about to say. 

Because we haven't said it yet. 

I think we want to, but we haven't made that leap. And I can't believe she was going to now on our way to breakfast! 

_"Faith awake? Breakfast time!"_ Bobb-o shouts through the door. 

"Yeah, we're coming right out," Faith yells back looking slightly annoyed. Knowing that the moment is lost, she takes my hand in one of hers and opens the door with her other one. "C'mon, let's get some grub." 

The walk to the food tent is uneventful and Faith holds my hand right up until we're out in the open. She stays close to me though and puts her hand on my lower back to guide me before her into the tent. The girls are all bunched together at a table when we walk in but they quickly scatter, leaving us one empty table as they greet us with cheery smiles and waves. 

A couple of girls come over and say hi to us and make small talk while we eat our oatmeal and cereal bars. It's almost a pleasant atmosphere until one of the girls asks me if I'll be in the arena tonight. It's something I've been trying not to think about for the last week and I guess it must show because Krista comes over and asks the girls to give me some quiet time to eat. 

That doesn't stop her from sitting down next to me though and starting up a conversation. 

Faith excuses herself and goes over to talk to Diane, telling me that she's ready to go back whenever I am and to come and get her when I'm done talking. Truth is, I'm ready to go back now but I can't just leave Krista hanging like that. 

"How've you been feeling, Buffy?" she asks me, trying to smile politely. 

"I have good days and bad days. Good moments and bad moments," I reply, pushing the last of my oatmeal around the plastic bowl. 

"I hear ya. Lots of the girls are going through the same kind of thing right now." 

"Yeah, I know," I say quietly. 

There's an awkward silence for a few minutes before Krista speaks again. 

"Buffy, we never got to finish up our conversation." 

"I know. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry. I never expected that things would just . . . fall apart like that." 

"I get that," Krista replies. "But we still need to have that talk, and the sooner the better. Right now, in fact. After what happened to the two girls last week and what happened to you with your sister the week before . . ." 

She keeps talking but I've already checked out. My mind is back on Dawn and everything horrible in the world and I desperately want this conversation to be over. I don't want anyone to see me breakdown. 

"Everything okay over here?" I hear from beside me and I look up to see Faith staring down at me with her brow furrowed and concern written across her face. 

"Everything's fine, Faith," Krista says, obviously annoyed but trying to be respectful. 

"B? Ya good?" Faith asks, ignoring Krista. 

"Actually," I begin, standing up, "I kind of think I need to lay down for a bit." 

Faith puts her hand on my lower back again and starts to escort me out of the tent and back to her room without question, obviously keen that Krista had said something to trigger my sadness. We only get a few steps away before Krista springs up and jumps in front of us, looking right into my eyes. 

"Buffy, please. I know your brain is in a craptastic place right now but we really need to talk. Just for a few minutes." 

"And B said she's tired so we're going back to my room. Both you and me know she ain't ready to deal with camp stress right now so just have a seat and chill, K. You can talk to her tomorrow." 

I can feel Krista's gaze locked on me but I can't look up at her. The rest of the girls in the tent are completely silent. They're all looking at me too, waiting for me to say something. Waiting for me to show them that I'm not as broken as they think I am. That I can still guide them and lead them, and help them plan like I told Krista I would. 

I can't though. Not now. They've been here almost two years; they can wait a little bit longer. 

Krista sighs and finally steps out of the way, letting Faith and I pass by. 

When we're out of the tent and a few feet away, my slayer hearing picks up a quiet apology from Krista's lips. 

I hope she hears mine too.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

I'm somewhere between sleep and awake when I feel soft lips press against my face. They travel gently over my cheek, down my jaw, over my chin, and then to the corner of my mouth. It's the sweetest thing I've ever felt and I don't want to open my eyes just in case it's a dream.

The lips move again and I feel warm breath against my ear before I hear someone whisper, "Buffy." 

Faith. 

I stretch my back and raise my arms over my head, smiling sleepily when I feel her body move and shift with mine so that she's hovering just above me, our skin touching. Her lips find their way back to the corner of my mouth where she kisses me softly again and again. I finally give in and start actively kissing her back, sliding my hands down her arms and then over her sides so that I can keep her pressed against me. 

I never ever thought that I'd be like this with Faith. I guess the end of the world can bring out some pretty surprising things in people. 

"It's almost time to start getting ready," she mumbles against my lips, then pulls back to look down at me. I guess that means we've been laying here for most of the day since we got back from breakfast. She studies my face for a few seconds before tucking a strand of hair behind my ear and leaning down to give me another sweet kiss. 

"I don't know if I can," I whisper, my breath quivery. 

"You can," she whispers back, then nudges her nose against mine. She takes a breath like she's going to say something but then stops and buries her face in my neck, placing soft kisses on it. 

I run my fingers through the back of her hair, then guide her head up so that I can look into her eyes. 

"What were you going to say?" I ask her. 

She stares into my eyes for what feels like forever, searching for something that she's not sure is there. 

I know for a fact that it is. 

"I wish we coulda done this a long time ago. Me and you, I mean. We've never been real direct with each other, yunno? Always dancin' around the important stuff and tryin' to keep ourselves safe." 

"Little did we know we'd be safest with each other, huh." 

"I know, right?" she says, chuckling a little. "I just wish . . ." She stops there and shakes her head sadly, her brow furrowing a little. There's so much regret inside of her. I wish I could make it easier for her like she's come to make things easier for me. 

"If wishes were horses," I begin and that gets a smile from her. 

". . .we'd ride off into the sunset together." 

"Out into the demon wasteland?" I ask her, slipping my hands over her lower back and giving it a quick tickle. 

"Yep," she says, squirming a little, trying to pretend she's serious despite the smile on her face. "We'd find a little abandoned cave of our own and hunt rabbits and wear their fur like little bikinis." 

"Gross. I am not wearing a fur bikini." 

"And we can get a demon butler. Yunno, just a little guy that we can keep in line with a daily kick in the ass." 

"How do we decide who gets to kick him? Because I think it should be me." 

"Well now you're talkin' crazy, B," she says, smiling even more. "Clearly I wear the pants in the relationship. I'll be the one doing the kickin'." 

"That hardly seems fair, especially since your ‘pants' will actually be a grotesque little fur bikini." 

"Just you wait til you see the fur bikini. You're gonna be beggin' me to make you one," she says, pinching my sides and making me squirm underneath her. 

I laugh and try to slap her hands away but she catches my wrists, then holds them up above my head on the cot so that we're completely pressed together. Her smile is bright and carefree as she looks down into my eyes but she quickly sobers up and looks almost nervous. Her eyes search mine again and I try to convey everything I feel for her. 

"B . . . Buffy," she begins, licking her suddenly dry lips. "I'm sorry we've got a fucked up past. So much of that shit is my fault; I couldn't face what I felt and I got so fucked up over it." 

"It's not just your fault," I reassure her. "Neither of us dealt. It made things bad, but it's better now. You've helped me out so much here. As bad as things are . . . you keep me going. You . . ." I trail off, feeling emotion creeping up, "you've kept everyone going. I don't know how you did it; you're pretty amazing." 

She actually looks kind of embarrassed and she buries her face against my neck again, kissing it softly. Her hands release my wrists and our fingers instantly intertwine. My heart clenches in my chest. 

"I love you," she finally whispers. The words are so quiet that no ordinary human would have heard them. With slayer hearing, though, they're loud and clear to me. 

And with her slayer hearing, I'm sure she can hear the way my heart is beating triple time right now. 

She keeps her face buried in my neck, waiting. I move my head to the side and look down at her and she lifts it up enough so that she can gaze into my eyes. I think she finally sees what she's been looking for in them because a tiny smile lifts the corners of her mouth. She leans down and gives me a soft kiss, and when she pulls back, I smile up at her. 

"Faith, I . . ." 

A loud knock on the door makes us jump. When we hear the lock turn, Faith quickly moves off of me and to the side so that she can cover us both with the wrinkled blanket. 

"What?" she yells, annoyed. 

"Time for fight!" Bobb-o yells back. He opens the door without waiting for a reply and tries to shove our armor in without actually looking inside the room. It clangs around on the floor loudly and a piece gets stuck in the door wedge. After a few seconds of trying to push it in with his meaty legs, he finally gets frustrated enough to open the door all the way open. When I look up at him, I notice he has his eyes shut tightly. 

I guess he's learned his lesson after walking in on us a few times. 

"We go in five minutes," he says, then shuffles backwards out of the room with his eyes still tightly closed. When the door shuts behind him, Faith and I both break out into laughter. 

"I think we broke him," I say. 

"Two hot naked chicks can do that to a guy, demon or not," she replies. 

Before we can finish up our little conversation, she hops off the bed and pulls on her panties and bra. Her back is to me when I stand up to join her and it seems like she's purposely avoiding looking at me; like if she does, what she just said will come back to slap her in the face. 

Instead of pressing the issue, I start getting dressed too. The armor is so old and worn that it's hard to get on and I struggle with the side clasps on my skirt-armor. 

A skirt. For battle. I shake my head and laugh. 

Before I can get frustrated with the armor – like I usually do – Faith steps up behind me and quickly adjusts it so that it's fastened and secure – like she usually does. I smile to myself when she leans forward and kisses the top of my shoulder, then goes back to dressing herself. 

I want to say it. I want to tell her. 

But she's gone into fight mode now and I don't want to break her concentration. Knowing that I need to focus too, I try to clear my head of everything but the task at hand. We finish getting dressed in silence, then knock on the door to let Bobb-o know that we're ready to go. 

But being physically ready is one thing. 

My head isn't in this and I realize just how dangerous that is as Bobb-o opens the door and leads us down the long corridor to the arena. 

* * *

When we get to the entrance to the arena, a pair of guards take us from Bobb-o and lead us into one of the small prep rooms just off to the side. They go through the usual routine of checking that we're properly suited up but then they start a more thorough inspection. They check our shin guards and under any piece of armor where something could be concealed. It's pretty laughable; this armor leaves very little to the imagination. There's not much room for hidden weapons. 

"What the hell do you think we're hiding?" Faith asks, slapping one of the guard's hands away when he tries to inspect her cleavage. 

"Weapons have gone missing," he says gruffly. "We are to inspect every slayer." 

"Hey genius, where exactly do ya think we're gonna hide anything with armor like this?" Faith asks, holding her arms out to the side and looking down at her barely-there armor. 

"We are following our orders. Now submit or we will use force." 

He waits for Faith to stand down and when she finally does so with a frown, the two guards finish searching us, coming up empty-handed like I knew they would. When they're finished, they walk out and send Bobb-o back in to wait with us until we're brought out with the others. 

"What the fuck was that about?" Faith asks me as we watch them retreat. "If any of the girls thought they'd get away with stealing weapons, they're not as smart as I give them credit for." 

"No way would they try to hide weapons on them," I say, shaking my head in confusion. "Not only is there no place to physically keep them hidden without having a sword hilt sticking out from somewhere, but they know what the punishment would be if they got caught." 

"Maybe a couple girls wanna get caught," Faith says with a shrug. 

I look over at Bobb-o who's watching us talk. 

"Bobb-o," I begin, "have any of the girls gotten into trouble today? Were any of them searched by the guards?" 

"Guards search them, find nothing," Bobb-o says with what looks like a shrug. 

"That means the weapons are in the camp," Faith replies. "Guards are gonna toss it while everyone is in the arena tonight. They find anything, we're all gonna suffer." 

"I need to talk to Krista. If the girls are stealing weapons, she'll know about it," I say. 

"Good luck with that," Faith replies. "Ya really think you're gonna be able to have a convo with her like that when we get out there?" 

"Probably not." 

"Exactly. Let's just focus on the fight out there before we start thinkin' about any fights in there," Faith says, nodding back toward the camp. "When we finish up in the arena, we go back to the camp with the girls and have a real serious talk about what the fuck they've been up to." 

"If the guards aren't already back there waiting for us," I add. 

"Yeah," Faith says dismissively. "Just keep your head in the game, B. I'll have your back out there; just try to stay focused." 

"I will," I say with a nod. I feel a tremble throughout my body and I know I'm not ready for this yet, but I don't really have a choice. 

"Hey," Faith says. She stands in front of me and makes me look up into her eyes. "I'm not gonna let anything happen to ya out there, B. It'll be like all the other easy fights we've been up against, right?" 

"Yeah," I reply, unconvinced. "Promise me you'll be safe too." 

And Faith lets down her mask of preparedness for a minute and smiles at me. 

"I'm practically Miss Safety Pants." 

"That's so much more appealing than Miss Fur Bikini Pants." 

She laughs and leans down to kiss me, then rests her forehead against mine. "Stay safe, yeah?" 

"Yeah," I nod. "You too." 

We stay like that for a few more minutes until Bobb-o tells us it's time to leave. Nothing more is said as we walk out into the corridor and out through the entrance to the arena. The crowd roars as we walk in, fully aware that we're the top fighters. They're also fully aware of what happened here two weeks ago and they're all taunting me about it. 

"Shake it off, B. They don't matter," Faith says, noticing the way I've stiffened up. 

I nod and look over at her, then back up to the massive crowd. There's gotta be over thirty thousand demons of every variety out there, and they all want our blood. It's why they come back again and again. 

It's not long before we reach the area reserved for slayers. The rest of the girls are already here and they barely notice our approach. They look completely fierce and not at all like the scared girls they once were. They've been training and working hard on their skills, both defensive and offensive. I just hope they listen to me when I tell them we need a solid plan before we can make any moves. 

Maybe after Faith and I have that long chat with them later about the stolen weapons, we can finally get into the whole breaking out thing. It's going to take a lot of serious thought. 

The crowd roars as the bosses step out and make their way into their private box but there's no big pomp and circumstance this time. No need to show me my dead sister on the screen. They've already broken me, or at least they think they have. Guess they didn't count on Faith, who'd already had her own breakdown, to pull me out of the darkness. Now they just want to have some good old fashioned carnage-type fun. 

Luckily for me, I'm starting to feel the rage I thought I'd lost when I'd realized I'd been played. 

Two or three dozen demons of different shapes and sizes start filing out into the arena from different entrances, all of them showboating for the crowd. That's when a few guards walk over to the slayers and start randomly picking them out and pulling them over to the weapon table. There are noticeably slimmer pickings on the table but none of the girls seem fazed by it. They just grab the odd sword or dagger and make their way out into the arena looking completely ready for a fight. 

A really bad feeling starts to creep over me and settles in the pit of my stomach. Something doesn't feel right. The guards busy ransacking the camp, the fearless girls, the missing weapons . . . this all feels like some kind of really shoddily put-together attempt by the girls to gain the upper hand in the camp. 

Don't they realize that even if they do . . . there's a horde of demons surrounding us? 

Oh god. Please don't let this be their plan. Please tell me they've thought this through more thoroughly and that this is just my paranoid brain playing games with me. I feel my entire body start to tremble. 

"Faith," I mumble, my lips barely moving. 

"What?" she asks, her gaze focused on the dozen or so girls in the arena. When I don't reply, she looks over at me and instantly realizes something's wrong. "What is it?" 

"Something's not right," I tell her. "This was planned. The missing weapons and the guards busy looking for them; the girls planned that. With most of the guards out of the way, the girls have less people to fight off." 

"Fight off?" Faith asks, her brow furrowed. 

"They want out. They've been training and practicing; they were waiting for me to lead them, but I . . . god, I wasn't there." A single tear falls from my eye and I swipe it away as I look around the arena for clues as to what's going to happen. "And you weren't there because you were trying to help me . . . this is all my fault." 

"Whoa, slow down," Faith says as she closes the distance between us. She puts her hands on my upper arms and gives me a little shake so that I focus on her. "They wouldn't do that; not without tellin' us. If they're all hell bent on breakin' out, this is probably some kinda dry run. What're they gonna do, take on every demon in this place?" 

I stare up at her face, more tears filling my eyes but not falling. Slowly, I nod. 

"That's . . . that's what they're gonna do. Faith, Krista told me the girls won't just sit around anymore. I told her that we'd lose half them just trying to get out and that the demons would chase us, so she said that they'd kill them all then. They don't care if they die trying because they know we're all going to die anyhow." 

"But that's fucking crazy!" Faith yells, visibly upset now. 

"Yeah, I know. But we lost two more girls last week, Faith. I asked them to wait for me and then . . . Dawn . . . I closed off. Maybe they would've waited if Mary and Allison hadn't died but now they're even more determined not to sit around and wait for death anymore. Don't you see? They're taking matters into their own hands. They'd rather their death be for a cause than for nothing at all!" 

Faith shakes her head and looks back at the girls. A few are stealing glances over at us now but all of the others are busy watching the fight going on behind us. 

"Why the hell wouldn't they have told me about it? I've been with them the whole time, side by side . . ." 

"Because they knew you wouldn't let them. They know you're trying to help me and that you would tell them they needed to wait until I was ready. But they weren't willing to wait, Faith. Not after Mary and Allison." 

I know I sound miserable but I can't help it. If this starts – this rebellion, this uprising – we're going to lose. We're all going to die, just when I've finally accepted the fact that I don't want to die anymore. That there can be something more. 

"Well, they got another thing comin' cos no way am I gonna let this happen. I'm going to call them off." 

She turns and starts to walk off but stops when she stubs her toe on something in the dirt. We both look down, brows furrowed. Slowly she starts to kick away some of the freshly loosened dirt with her foot and our eyes widen at the same time. 

Faith stubbed her toe on a short sword, covered in dirt and still partially buried. 

We both look up and start glancing around the side of the arena we're on. There are dark spots where the dirt has been disturbed all over the place. I guess now we know where all of those stolen weapons went to. They were never hidden back in the camp. The guards that are looking for them are on a wild goose chase. 

The weapons have been beneath our feet the entire time. 

"Fuck," Faith says, running her hands through her hair. "Not good. Listen, you stay here. I'm going to stop this stupidity before it starts." 

"It's already too late," I tell her, nodding over to the slayers. A few are already busy nonchalantly kicking away loose dirt with their feet while pretending to be as engrossed in the fight going on as the rest of the stadium is. 

Faith watches the girls carefully, then looks out into the arena at the slayers that were chosen to fight tonight. They're all still alive and nearly done taking out the demons that they're fighting with. If the match ends, it'll be too late to stop anything. 

"You stay here," Faith says. She makes sure no one is watching us before bending down and grabbing the sword, then trying to hide it down her shin guard. The hilt is sticking up near her knee but she has no place else to put it. 

She leans in and gives me a quick kiss on the lips, then pulls back and looks into my eyes long and hard before saying to Bobb-o, "Keep an eye on her, Bobb-o. Nothing happens to her, got it?" 

Bobb-o nods but I can tell that he's worried. He'd never blow Faith in for having a weapon; hell, I bet he'd help her escape AND be her demon butler if she asked him. And now that she's asked him to keep me safe, I know he'll do just that. 

Before I can say anything more to Faith, she's on her way toward the slayers and heading right for Krista. Krista glances over at me before looking back out at the fight, pretending that she doesn't see Faith. Faith is determined though and stops right in front of her, making Krista look up. 

I can't hear what they're saying; the crowd is too loud and not showing any signs of quieting down for my listening convenience. I can tell that Faith is yelling, though, and it seems like Krista is yelling right back. The sad thing is that we forced Krista into this position. After Jo died, it was just her, Faith and I left in leader positions. Then Faith checked out, then me, and Krista was left to deal with the burden of the entire camp. 

She had to do what she thought was right for everyone, and this is what the majority of the girls were pushing for. 

Suddenly the crowd roars even louder and I see the last four demons standing in the arena get the upper hand on one of the fighting slayers. All four of them are dead in the blink of an eye after having been surrounded by the eleven slayers, but it's too late for Amy who is lying dead at their feet. 

And then everything starts to move in slow motion as I see the slayers standing at the side with us charge out into the arena, dirt-covered weapons in hand. They immediately take out the few guards that are stationed just in front of them while the unarmed slayers behind them start digging in the dirt for the hidden weapons they know are there. 

Faith turns around, eyes wide and looking . . . scared. For the first time since I've been here, she looks truly scared. She can't dwell, though; a new unit of guards starts to pour into two separate entrances of the arena and right towards her and the other girls. Sparing me one quick glance, she charges out after them. 

"What the fuck do you think you're doing!" she yells, trying to pull the girls back. "Are you fucking crazy?" 

The slayers completely ignore her though and begin to cut through the newly arrived guards that are storming in with weapons raised. The crowd is going crazy and sure enough, demons start to hop into the arena from the stands, ready to find glory by taking out a slayer with their own hands. 

I try to run forward but Bobb-o catches me by the shoulders and holds me back. 

"Bee no fight!" he says and wraps his arms around me from behind, trying to keep me safe. 

I struggle half-heartedly as I watch the chaos begin to unfold in front of me. The slayers seem to hold their own for the first few minutes but soon they're overwhelmed by the sheer number of foes pouring onto the field. Didn't they know this would happen? Didn't they realize how horribly outnumbered and unprepared we are? 

Faith has gone from trying to stop the girls to trying to protect them, fighting away demons that are quickly getting the best of them. Faith has been in battles like this; the girls haven't. She knows what needs to be done but no one else does and everyone is starting to panic. Girls are starting to run, just trying to escape the horde of demons. That's impossible when you're completely surrounded by them though. 

I look over to see Krista and Shy fighting back to back with Laura and Hazel doing the same nearby. They're the only ones who have sense enough to do that which is probably why the demons are targeting the girls who are fighting all on their own. 

"Bobb-o, let me go!" I yell, struggling against him. 

"Faith say nothing happen to Bee, so nothing happen to Bee!" he shouts back, unrelenting in his iron grip on me. 

"Goddammit, we need to help them!" I cry. Luckily for me, Bobb-o has some man-parts underneath all the blubber and I manage to kick him right in them without even realizing it. 

He drops me involuntarily and quickly tries to scoop me back up but I'm too quick for him. I'm already digging into one of the last weapon hidey-holes and pulling out another short sword. When I stand up to check the situation out, I see that the slayers are getting smaller and smaller in number. There are bodies piling up everywhere, both human and demon, but there are more and more demons filing into the arena from the stands every seconds. 

They're like a swarm of locusts and we're slowly getting swallowed up in their dark cloud. 

Demons instantly surround me but I fight them off easily enough, determination and sheer desperation driving me. I'm still quite a way from most of the girls but I manage to help a few along the way, dragging them with me toward the center so we can all fight side by side. 

Faith seems to be doing the same thing too, dragging Holly and Cara along with her from the other side while fighting off the demons that are hot on their heels. When she gets a bit of room between them and their attackers, she turns and sprints for the center, her eyes widening when she sees me fighting alongside the girls. 

Distracted, I feel the sharp pain in my leg and look down to see blood starting to drip from a fresh wound. I hold out my sword and spin hard, taking out three demons that were behind me and ready to close in for the kill. Krista jumps in and goes back to back with me, feverishly shouting her apologies for all of this. Ignoring the pain in my leg, I try to focus on what she's saying but my eyes are fixated on Faith who is charging over here after seeing me get hurt. 

She's not paying attention to the demons between us or the demons chasing after her though and she's about two seconds away from getting caught up in the swarm. 

"Faith, stop!" I yell, taking off in her direction. 

But it's too late. A demon catches her from the side and drives his sword directly through her mid-section, dropping her to her knees. Her eyes widen and she stares at me while she touches the wound and brings up her hand, covered in blood. 

She whispers my name before she collapses face first onto the ground.


	16. Chapter 16

(Suggested Music: Coma Black by Marilyn Manson)

My stomach clenches as I watch Faith hit the ground and I can't seem to breathe. I keep running though, jumping over bodies and taking out demons as I go. Krista and a few more girls follow after me, fighting off the horde of demons that continue to come at us from every angle. When I reach Faith's side, the girls circle around us to give us some space from the onslaught. They keep peeking over their shoulders as I fall to my knees and pull Faith up so that she's on her back beside me, looking up. 

As soon as I look at her face, I know that this story isn't going to have a happy ending. 

"Oh god, Faith," I cry, tears freely flowing down my cheeks. 

There's blood all over and on the ground around her. The sword must have gone clean through because she's bleeding from both her front and back and she's getting paler by the second. I put one hand beneath her on her wound and my other hand on her abdomen and press down hard, hoping to stop the bleeding. 

Faith gasps and a tiny bit of blood leaks from the corner of her mouth. 

I don't know what to do. There's nothing I can do. 

"Fuck," she coughs, a few more blood droplets escaping her suddenly dry lips. 

"Don't talk. Don't move," I tell her, trying to keep my hand firmly in place over her stomach despite the fact that she's trying to move it off. 

"Get outta here, B," she says, trying to push me away. "I'm a lost cause." 

"No!" I say angrily through my tears. "I'm getting you out of here. We're gonna get out of here together." 

She takes a deep breath and tries to calm herself despite the pain I know she's in. Her eyes meet mine and she tries to smile. 

"I'm already dead," she says, but I can't accept it. How can I? I don't want to be without her anymore. I _can't_ be without her. 

"Don't say that," I say as I lean down and bring my face closer to hers. I slip my hand out from under her back and wipe the blood off on my thigh so that I can brush her hair away from her face. "Don't you dare say that." 

"This ain't a flesh wound, princess." She cringes and tries to keep her composure. "Got maybe another minute left in me and when that minute's up, you're gonna get the fuck outta dodge and run until ya can't run anymore." 

I shake my head almost violently, tears still spilling from my eyes. "No. I won't leave you, Faith." 

"You're not gonna have much of a choice." She winces and I slip my hand in hers so she can squeeze it. She takes advantage, gripping it tightly. "This is what you do; fight a path toward one of the exits to the camp, then run and jump the fence. Don't look back." 

"I can't leave you," I whisper, shaking my head slowly. A tear drips from my chin and splashes on her cheek. 

She raises one of her shaky hands to my face and brushes the tears away with her thumb, smiling faintly. 

"You will. For me," she whispers back. "You've always been my angel, Buffy. Always you." 

Her eyes start to lose their focus and I shake her, trying to keep her with me. 

"Don't you dare leave me," I say, my jaw clenched tightly. "I'm only alive because of you." 

She weakly shakes her head, "No, you're alive because you're you. You're kinda amazing when you're not beating my ass." 

I chuckle softly, sobbing at the same time. 

"You're the amazing one. And I don't want to be here without you. Please, Faith," I say, then lean down so that my forehead is pressed against hers. I close my eyes and whisper, "Please don't leave me. Please." 

Faith closes her eyes too and her breathing slowly stops. I sit back up and look down at her, my eyes wide with fear. 

"No. No! Wake up!" 

Suddenly Faith's eyes shoot open and she gasps, hands reaching out to grab at my armor. She pulls me down so that we're almost face to face and looks at me with wild eyes. 

"We die. We all die," she says with an air of clarity. "The only way out is death. The only way out is death. The only way out is death." 

She keeps repeating it over and over again, her brown eyes locked on mine. After a few seconds her words start to bleed together in a quiet mumble and I cry harder, knowing that this is it. 

"I love you, Faith," I whisper, my tears spilling over my lips. "I love you. I love you." 

Her eyes drift off to the side, focusing at some spot over my shoulder and her body stills. 

And then she's gone. 

The scream that leaves my mouth is enough to bring the entire arena to a standstill. The demons stop charging us and watch as I pull Faith into my arms and hold her against my chest, sobbing loudly. I whisper my love into her hair as I rock back and forth, tears still streaming down my face. I finally look down at her and touch the side of her face softly, pressing my lips to hers for our last kiss. 

When the tears stop falling, I place her gently on the ground and stare down at her face as I stand up, my body on autopilot. I can hear the girls around me crying too but my anger soon drowns them out. I turn from Faith to look out into the arena at the thousands of demons that remain. 

And with Faith's sword in my hand, I silently pledge to take out every single one of them. 

For her. 

I jump into the fray before the demons can start their assault again, swinging my sword hard and taking the heads off the five closest demons in one swipe. Their bodies fall to the ground and I step up onto them, ready for the next wave. And just like that, the locusts start swarming again, trying to swallow us up in their sheer numbers. 

The girls that were around me jump up and protect my back, taking on the demons that are coming from the sides and rear. Soon the bodies are so high that it's like we're in a fortress and the demons are trying to come in over the top. I hear a loud grunt from behind me and look back long enough to see Lucy with a gash across her throat, deep enough that it almost severs her head completely. Her body falls in the middle of the other girls and I but we keep fighting as hard as we can. 

A Polgara demon charges at me and, with the height advantage, manages to knock me backwards and on top of Lucy's stilled body. He pounces on me with both of his wrist-skewers extended and manages to wedge one in my shoulder before Krista grabs him by the horns and Hazel runs over, running her blade along his throat. His blood sprays over me before I can scurry out of the way but I barely even realize it. There's so much blood everywhere now . . . it's hard to tell where it's come from. 

When I get to my feet, I notice a clearing in the mass of bodies far enough to see another group of girls fighting maybe thirty yards from us. I can't tell who's left but there are quite a few of them still standing. When they finish with the demons that are around them, I see Ha and Hayley run for the side of the ring where there are a couple of torches burning. They throw them into the stands, starting a slow burning fire which goes ignored by the demons. 

I guess the girls are trying to make sure that even if we don't succeed here, this arena will never be used for anything like this ever again. No more death for sport. 

Another wave of demons hop down from the stands and start heading directly for us. The girls around me shift so that we're away from the pile of bodies and have more room to fight. I don't move too far from Faith's body, careful not to let anyone or anything get too close to her. Hot tears prick my eyes when I gaze down at her and I grip my sword a little bit tighter. 

"Jesus fucking Christ," Krista mumbles as the wave gets closer and closer, their footsteps sounding like thunder. "Oh shit. Oh shit." 

And when I look up, I realize why she's scared. 

These aren't normal demons. They're virtual giants – Haxil beasts, I think - and they're headed right for us, fangs bared and muscled arms ready to strike. The first one breaks through us and hits Laura so hard that she sails through the air and lands near the second group of girls thirty yards away. Krista and Hazel jump on the demon's back and pummel him with their swords and fists until he falls in a heap at our feet. We all turn to face his friends who are quickly approaching and that's when we hear a horrible roar from across the arena. 

It sounds like a dragon or a dinosaur or something even worse. 

Imagine my surprise when I see demons being ploughed over and tossed easily through the air as a path is cut in our direction, connecting us with the slayers who were fighting across the way. When the path reaches us, I gasp when I see Bobb-o standing there, twice his normal size and looking scarier than I ever could have imagined. His eyes are glowing red and he's breathing hard, growling with every breath. 

"Bee okay?" 

I clench my jaw and nod but glance over to my right where I know Faith's body is laying. Bobb-o follows my gaze and emits a loud, eardrum piercing howl that manages to break my heart all over again. He takes a step toward Faith and drops to one knee, then stands and charges into the fray, saving us from the giant demons that were about to hit us. 

They bend and give like cornstalks against a plow and the girls cheer, happy to have a little bit more help on our side. The feeling of victory is short-lived, however, when we see Bobb-o surrounded near the wall and close to one hundred more demons closing in on him. He swings his arms and tries to charge again but they pin him there, completely helpless. 

Another loud howl sounds through the arena before I hear the unmistakable sound of his body falling hard on the ground. 

The demons don't pause for a second though and the next wave starts in on us immediately. 

"Buffy, what do we do?" Krista asks, blood dripping down her arm from where she has a nasty looking gash. 

"Should we run?" Hazel asks, looking like she's ready to bolt. 

"We fight," I say, bracing myself for impact. "You guys wanted your freedom, you have to fight for it. We leave here when they're all dead." 

They look nervously from one another and finally Marie stands up at my side. 

"Then we kill'em all!" she shouts. 

"Kill them all!" Krista shouts as the girls from the other group join us, weapons bloody and raised and ready for action. 

The girls start letting out battle cries and they run up to meet the demons head on, hitting in a collision of steel and muscle and teeth. Several of the girls are tossed back immediately but they get up and charge back in, fighting hard. They're scared and they're hurt but they want this. Freedom or death; no more of the in-between. 

A M'Fashnik demon heads in my direction and I drop low, catching him under his ribs with my shoulder and tossing him behind me. When I turn back to see where he landed, my stomach churns when I see that he's on Faith and trying to get to his feet. 

He never makes it. 

I'm on him before he can stand, pounding his head with my fists so hard that I feel two of my fingers dislocate. He's strong, though, and he manages to kick me off of him, sending me back into the fray. I struggle to regain my balance and that's when I feel it. A weird pressure in my chest that feels hotter and hotter every second. 

When I look down, I see a blade poking out of me just below where my armor covers. I drop to my knees and the blade slips out but the white hot heat remains. The pressure continues building and I cough, covering the ground in blood. 

"Shit, Buffy!" Hazel yells. She drops her guard for just a split second but that's all it takes for a Fyarl demon to charge her with a crude steel sword. 

Her body is still when it lands on the ground next to me, her eyes still open. 

I look away, tears stinging my eyes again. Breathing is difficult but I calm myself down as much as possible and crawl away from the fray, stopping only when I'm next to Faith. I collapse next to her, wheezing and gasping and trying to see through the tears burning my eyes. 

"Faith," I say before having a coughing fit. I rest back with my head on her shoulder and close my eyes, trying to ignore the white hot pain in my chest. Trying to ignore the screams and cries of the girls still fighting around me. 

A loud thud just to my side catches my attention and I open my eyes to see Krista laying flat on the ground next to me, her head turned to the side and her eyes wide. A trickle of blood spills from the corner of her lips. 

"Buffy," she whispers, wincing as she says my name. 

I take her hand and squeeze it, then clench my eyes shut. After a few seconds I hear her breathing pick up and I open my eyes to see her watching one of the bosses approach, a fancy silver sword in his hand. 

"You had it so well here," he says as if perplexed. 

"I'd rather die free than as a slave," Krista says with the last of her strength. 

The boss raises his sword up and buries it in her chest. "And so you shall." 

Her hand goes limp in mine and I watch as he pulls the sword out of her and steps over to me. He tuts and shakes his head sadly. 

"Such a waste." 

He raises the sword above me and I close my eyes, holding on tight to Faith's limp hand. 

I'm finally caught up in the swarm. 

* * *

Heaven is a lot different than I remember. There are loud noises and people talking. I actually feel like my body is tired instead of the bliss I felt when I was here last time. Maybe they wouldn't let me back in though. Maybe I have too much blood on my hands now. 

Maybe this is hell. 

"Her heart rate is too high. Perhaps it's time we fetch a doctor." 

Giles is in hell? 

"Just give her a second. The same thing happened to all of the other girls. Give her more time to come through." 

Willow? Do Jewish people even believe in hell? 

I feel someone take my hand in theirs and squeeze it gently. "Come on, Buffy. Open your eyes." 

My heart feels like it's going to explode in my chest and I hear the beeping sound get quicker. That voice. Can it be? Slowly – and with a bit of difficulty – I manage to open my eyes. The first thing I see is Dawn sitting at my side, concern written across her face. She smiles a little bit when I look at her, a single tear running down her cheek. 

"Dawnie," I say, barely able to recognize my hoarse voice. "You're alive. You are alive, aren't you?" 

"Yeah, I'm alive, Buffy," she says, a few more tears trickling down her cheeks as she smiles widely and squeezes my hand. I feel a small pinch and when I glance down, I notice that there's an IV needle in the top of my hand with a piece of white tape holding it there. 

"They didn't kill you," I say with wide eyes, looking from my hand back up to her face. "God, they said you were dead. The First . . . Dawn, why was The First able to take your shape?" 

Dawn looks even more worried and she looks off to the side. I follow her gaze and am more than surprised to see Willow, Giles, Xander and Kennedy standing there. 

Wait, Kennedy? 

I try to shuffle back in my . . . hospital bed? . . . but my muscles are too tired. There are wires all around me and when I start to get tangled in them, Dawn hops up and helps me untangle myself. When my arm is free, I lift it up – it feels like it's made of lead – and point it at Kennedy accusingly. 

"You're dead! I saw you die! You're The First! Willow, smite it!" Kennedy raises an eyebrow at me and Willow looks between her and I nervously. I point over at Giles then. "They killed you too! You couldn't do their magic and they killed you!" 

"Buffy," he begins, his voice gentle. 

"Willow!" I look over at her, eyes wide. The heart monitor they have me hooked up to is beeping like crazy. "You kept calling the slayers but it exhausted your energy and they killed you too. Oh god, you're all _dead_. I'm in a room full of dead people!" 

"We're not dead, Buffy, and neither are you," Giles says calmly. 

I feel anything but calm though as I remember everything that happened at the camp and tears start falling down my cheeks. I shake my head, cutting him off. 

"I died, Giles," I tell him, half-sobbing now. "They killed me and now I'm in some kind of crazy dream world where my dead friends are haunting me because I couldn't save them." 

Giles takes my hand in his and tries to soothe me. 

"You did die, dear. It's the only reason why you're here with us now." 

"I don't understand," I tell him, shaking my head gently. "Someone please tell me what's going on." 

"Buffy, do you remember the date that we entered the high school and descended into the Hellmouth?" he asks. 

I nod my head. How could I forget that day? "May 20th, 2003." 

"Precisely," he says, offering me an encouraging smile. He looks off to the side and over at one of the chairs reserved for visitors. It's loaded with magazines and books and jackets. It looks like it's been put to good use for quite a while. 

Xander quickly grabs something from it and brings it to Giles. I notice that it's a newspaper and I watch Giles fold it so that the center section of the front page is visible. He hands it over to me and points to some text just below the headline. It's the date. 

July 21st, 2003? 

That's impossible. Two months? I've been a slave for two years! 

"Is this an old paper?" I ask and Giles shakes his head sadly. "Is this a joke then?" 

"You've been in a coma. A Mystical coma," he quickly clarifies. "When you entered the Hellmouth with the potentials, The First was prepared with magicks stronger than we could have anticipated. After Willow used the scythe to activate the potentials, the First initiated its second line of defense, the first being the ubervamp army. It needed one of the original slayers to fall, and unfortunately for us, that was you." 

"I was stabbed," I say, pressing my fingers to the scar that I know is under my hospital gown. I can feel the rigid bump underneath the thin material. 

"You were," Giles agrees. "Your wound was quite serious and you must have passed out from blood loss before your enhanced healing could help. In any other fight, you would have woken, sore and wounded but alive. The First's magick attacked you, however, and you never regained consciousness." 

"But that doesn't explain . . ." I shake my head slightly, tears welling up in my eyes again. "It couldn't have been a dream. Everything that happened . . . I felt it all. It was real." 

"It was real for you, Buffy," Willow says, taking a seat on the other side of the bed and resting a gentle hand on my knee. "The First's magick created an alternate reality in your mind. You lived and breathed there; everything you thought and felt was real." 

"Tell her the even crazier part," Kennedy urges her on. 

"It gets crazier?" I ask, swiping a tear away. 

"You might want to hold onto the bed rails, Buff," Xander says. 

"The First knew what we'd been planning, Buffy," Willow explains. "It knew that we were going to activate the potentials and it needed a way to keep them down so that it could succeed. Unleashing a few thousand ubervamps on us would take out the immediate threat but it wasn't a permanent solution." 

"So The First set up some kinda whacked out plan that pulled every slayer called into your crazy little brain world," Kennedy interrupts almost excitedly. 

"What?" I ask, confused. 

"As soon as you fell unconscious, The First's magick activated fully and pulled all of the newly called slayers into the world in your subconscious," Willow clarifies. "While you and all of the new slayers believed that you continued fighting, you actually all fell unconscious in this reality." 

"But then how . . .?" 

This is all too much. Everything that's happened since I was stabbed in the Hellmouth . . . it's all been a lie. Everything. Our pain, our struggle, our . . . I shake my head and clench my eyes shut when I think about Faith. 

"Luckily for the rest of the world, Spike's amulet kicked in at just the right time," Willow continues. "All of the ubervamps turned to dust and The First had to pull back to make a new plan." 

"When the rest of us went down into the Hellmouth to check out the situation, we thought all of you were dead," Xander explains. "Everyone was unconscious and completely still. It was enough to mess with our heads." 

"So then how did you know what happened?" I ask. 

"Faith," Willow replies with a sad smile. "When The First created the spell to subdue all of the slayers, it planned it based on either you or Faith falling. Had Faith been injured like you had, the alternate reality would have been in her mind and you wouldn't have been pulled in. It was just bad luck, Buffy. She was completely torn up about it. She wouldn't leave your bedside for almost a week." 

"How many girls . . .?" I ask, trying to distract myself from thoughts of Faith. 

"All of them," Giles says, squeezing my hand gently. "All of the slayers that were in Sunnydale were affected, as were a few that were activated throughout the U.S. We were still unsure of what was going on at that point. We consulted what was left of the coven and they informed us of the spell that was used. Willow tried her best to break through the magical barrier but it was too strong for her. Since then we've been trying to figure out how to free everyone from your mind." 

"Were you able to pull anyone out?" 

"Unfortunately, no. The First's magick is utterly impregnable. It was only a short while after we arrived at the hospital that a few girls started waking though. They weren't able to remember much at all but every girl could recall their own death in this other reality. It was then that we realized that the only way out was death." 

"And then girls started waking up left and right about an hour ago and we knew something was up," Xander adds. "And then Faith woke up and she told us something big was going on; that we needed to check in on everyone." 

Wait, I thought they just said Faith wasn't affected by the spell. If she was in a coma, does that mean that what we had together wasn't made up by my own mind? 

Xander continues, "Dawn called us all in here when your heart rate shot up. A few minutes later and, well . . . you know the rest." He smiles gratefully and I realize now how much I've missed him. How much I've missed all of them. 

Willow smiles up at him and then looks back to me, an apologetic look on her face. 

"I tried to find a way to zap you dead or even to influence you in the alternate reality but I couldn't do it through the magical barrier," she explains. "And that was when Faith decided . . ." 

"Hey, no fair talkin' about me when I'm not here to defend myself," comes a raspy voice from the doorway. 

I know who it is before I even look over. My stomach flutters and my heart aches when I turn my head and see Faith wearing a yellow hospital gown and in a wheelchair being pushed into the room by a nurse. 

"I tried to tell her that she needs to stay in bed but she threatened to get up and walk over if I didn't help her. I've never seen someone who only just woke up from a coma half an hour ago make demands like that," the nurse complains as she finishes pushing Faith in and parks her near my bed. "I'll be back for you in five minutes, young lady." 

No one speaks until the nurse leaves, and even when they start up again, I don't hear them. Faith and I are staring at each other and all I can hear is the sound of my heart beating in my ears. She's pale and her lips are dry but she's still beautiful. 

But if she was in a mystical coma too, how did that happen if she spent a week at my bedside after we got to the hospital? 

And more importantly, if the other slayers don't remember much of anything . . . does Faith?


	17. Chapter Seventeen

Faith and I continue to stare at each other but I gradually realize that someone's trying to get my attention. I somehow manage to tear my gaze away from hers, blinking back the tears that are threatening to spill from my eyes. Giles gives my hand a soft squeeze and smiles gently before speaking.

"Buffy, dear, I understand that this all might come as quite a shock to you and that you're going to need a fair bit of time to recover, but do you feel well enough to share with us what you experienced while in this other reality?" 

My gaze flicks worriedly over to Faith who seems eager to hear my response. I take a deep breath and look down at my lap before looking back up at Giles. 

"You said that all of the slayers are starting to wake up, right?" I ask and Giles nods. "And since this whole reality was set up in my mind, they'll probably all be awake now since I am, right?" 

"That's our assumption, yes," Willow replies. 

"Then do you think we can wait a while before we start the questions?" I ask wearily. 

Truth of the matter is, I don't want to talk about everything that happened if I'm the only one that remembers. I can't even begin to imagine what'll happen if I tell everyone that Faith and I shacked up and fell in love in the middle of hell if she doesn't have that same memory. 

I'd be devastated. 

"Of course," Giles answers, patting my hand gently. "You must be quite exhausted from the entire ordeal and I'm sure there are more slayers that would like some answers as to why they're waking up in hospital beds. Will you be okay if we go check on them?" 

I nod my head and Dawn takes a step closer to my bed. 

"I'll stay," she says, resting her hand on my forearm. "The doctors are probably going to come rushing in here any minute anyway." 

"Don't think they have enough doctors to check on all the girls that are coming to," Kennedy says. "This shit is so crazy. I mean, do you even remember anything at all besides fighting, Buffy?" 

And again all eyes are on me but I can't do anything but look over at Faith. She studies my face as I look at her, trying to figure out whatever it is I'm not saying. I know I have to say something though. 

"Bits and pieces," I manage to say after a few awkward moments of silence. 

"Huh," Kennedy replies skeptically. "What about you, Faith?" 

Faith's eyes never leave mine but it looks like she's a little bit disappointed when she shrugs and says, "Like she said: bits and pieces. Right, B?" 

I nod and manage to tear my gaze away from hers again, feeling completely unnerved. She either knows something and won't say or she doesn't remember and is expecting me to fill in the blanks. My heart clenches in my chest and I close my eyes to fight back the tears. I open them only when I hear footsteps approach the room and see Faith's nurse walk in, ready to take her back. 

"You can talk with your friends later, young lady," the nurse says as she starts to maneuver Faith around in the crowded room. "The doctors have a whole slew of tests waiting for you. They never expected especially you to wake up, taking your medical history into consideration. You're a lucky girl." 

I'm not exactly sure how they know about her medical history without having an entire police squad swooping in here to take her back to prison but I'm betting Willow has something to do with that. I'll have to ask her about that when there are less people around. 

"Yeah, really lucky," Faith groans as the nurse begins to push her through the door. 

But after losing her once, an intense panic rises in me when I realize that she's being taken away from me again. My heart jumps to my throat and I can't stop myself calling out, "Faith!" 

I watch as she grips the wheels tightly and stops the wheelchair against the nurse's wishes so that she can look back at me. And suddenly I don't know what to say. 

"I, uh . . . I'll see you later?" 

A soft smile forms on her lips and she nods, "I won't be far, B. Holler if ya need me. Ain't nothin' can keep me from rollin' back on over. Not even Nurse Muscles over here." 

The nurse chuckles but shakes her head in mock disapproval. Faith lets go of the wheels and they're gone into the corridor before I can say anything else. I try to ignore the pain in my heart and instead look back at my friends, giving them a small smile. 

"We'll be back in a little while too, Buff," Xander says. 

"And we'll talk to the doctors, see when they think everyone can leave here," Willow adds. "We're guessing it won't be long because all of the injuries the girls here sustained in the battle are healed by now. Add some slayer metabolism to the mix and I think that the post-coma fatigue and weakness will fade pretty fast. We're not exactly sure on what happens next but we've been staying in a hotel Angel helped us find. It's nice but temporary. We can talk about it all when you're feeling better." 

"Thanks Will," I reply, then say goodbye to everyone as they leave to check on the others. When they're all gone, I look up to Dawn and try to smile but I just don't have the energy. She smiles sympathetically and pushes my hair back from my face. 

"I made them let me wash your hair," she says, trying to arrange it just so. "There are orderlies for stuff like that but I know what a freak you've always been about your hair. They let me bring in the shampoo you like and I made sure to keep it clean and brushed. You can blame your complete lack of split-ends and bedhair on me." 

I chuckle softly and rest my hand over hers on the side of my head. Her smile falters and I see tears starting to form in her eyes. 

"I was so afraid that you were going to leave me again," she says, her words barely a whisper. 

"I was fighting for you," I say, managing a smile. "Every day I fought for you. You were what got me through the roughest times, especially in the beginning when it felt like there was no hope." 

I realize that I'm crying now too and I cling to Dawn when she leans down to hug me. We cry together and she climbs up onto the narrow bed after letting down the silver rail on one side. It's not the most comfortable thing in the world but I think Dawn is keeping me from breaking down even worse right now. My world has been thrown for a complete loop and just knowing that Dawn is here and that she still needs me after all this time is keeping me grounded. 

"You can sleep if you need to and I can be quiet," she says after a few minutes, no longer sniffling. "I'm just happy that you're back and you're okay." 

"Thanks, Dawnie. I'm glad you're okay, too. In the other world," I begin and she looks up at me, eager to hear the tale. I stop myself though and shake my head, closing my eyes briefly. "Actually, sleep sounds good." 

Nodding, Dawn climbs off the bed and pulls the chair close enough so that she can still hold my hand. 

"Get some rest and we can talk about it all later," she says. 

I rest my head back on the cool pillow and take a deep breath. When I close my eyes and start to fall asleep, everything starts to blur and I feel a soft pull at the corners of my mind. I know I'm not dreaming because it's all too familiar. I'm back in the arena and there are bodies everywhere. Demons and slayers . . . just laying there, dead. There's nothing alive anywhere except for me. I start to panic, worried that I've been sucked back into the hell dimension but when I open my eyes, I'm back in the hospital bed with a sleeping Dawn on the chair at my side. 

I close my eyes again and focus; everything starts to blur again and I find myself back in the arena with the bodies. Opening my eyes makes it all go away though. 

I . . . I can't . . . It's still in my head. The other dimension is still there. 

It's still inside of me. 

And no matter how much I want to sleep right now, I grab the remote instead and turn the TV on. I flick through the channels and settle on a news station, deciding to fill my head with everything I've missed in the last two months. 

I'm afraid to close my eyes. I don't want to end up back in that hell, alone. 

* * *

It doesn't matter that my body was well-rested from two months of sleep because I still fell asleep again no matter how much I tried to fight it. I guess that when the body wants rest, it takes it. Luckily for me I didn't wind up back at the hell inside of my head. I'm pretty sure I was dreaming out loud though because when I wake up, Dawn's just watching at me from the chair beside my bed. 

"Interesting dream?" she asks, smirking. 

"I don't remember. Why?" 

I scooch up a bit and adjust the pillows behind my back, carefully avoiding her gaze. My muscles feel stronger already and I can't wait to be able to take a hot shower and wash the hospital out of my dry skin. 

Dawn shrugs and gazes back up at the TV, trying to look nonchalant despite the fact that I can see she's still smirking a little. 

"There was some fairly porny moaning going on." 

And now she's full out smiling. Great. I can remember every second of being in the other dimension but I can't remember a dream from a short cat-nap? 

"I was not moaning," I defend. Dawn scoffs quietly and I sigh. "How do you know I wasn't having a nightmare? Those could have been moans of agony and terror." 

Dawn tries to keep herself from smiling but fails miserably as she says, "While I may not have your level of bedroom expertise – eww, by the way – I know the difference between a traumatized moan and a porny moan, and you, my dear sister, were definitely on the porny side of the dream spectrum." 

"I'd gladly welcome another mystical coma at this point," I groan, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. 

"Don't worry, Buffy," she assures me, clicking the TV off and turning to face me. Her smile has softened and it seems like she's letting go of the teasing routine… for now. "Your dirty little secret's safe. No one but me will ever know about the torrid action between you and your co-star." 

"Co-star?" Oh god. Think, brain, think! What the hell was I dreaming about? 

"Yeah," Dawn says, tilting her head a little as she smiles at me. "You and Fa. . ." 

"Knock knock!" calls a voice from the doorway, interrupting Dawn. A doctor comes walking in with a nurse in tow and for the first time in my life, I'm actually relieved to see a doctor. He's just in the nick of time, too. "How are we doing in here?" 

"Fine," I say, grateful for the distraction. Dawn seems distracted too and smiles proudly like she's been the dutiful sister. 

More like the dutiful napper. I guess she deserved a break though. She's been worrying about me for two months. Some relaxation - and napping, apparently - is in order. 

"Sorry it's taken me so long to check in. We've just been completely swamped the last few hours. It's a miracle really; more than ninety percent of our coma patients have woken up." 

"That's great," Dawn says, looking between the doctor and I with a huge smile on her face. She looks so relieved. I guess the nightmare is well and truly over. 

"In any case, some additional staff has been called in to help. They're working on some of the young girls down the hall, which means I'll be taking care of you." He smiles at me and approaches my bed, taking note of the readings on the monitor I'm attached to. "Your vitals look strong and consistent. Have you been experiencing any problems? Blurred or double vision, extreme fatigue, shortness of breath, tingling in your limbs, muscle spasms?" 

"Not really," I shrug. "I'm just a little worn down but I guess that's to be expected." 

"Indeed. Don't worry, we won't push you hard at this point. We're just going to test some of your basic motor functions and draw some blood at the moment, and once we're sure you don't have any additional complications we'll set you up with a physical therapist to work on the bigger muscular issues." 

"Muscular issues?" Dawn asks with a frown. 

"It's nothing to worry about, I assure you. Most patients who have been comatose for prolonged periods of time suffer from some degree muscle atrophy. A little bit of physical therapy should help immensely though. Buffy is in peak physical condition so I'm willing to bet she'll be able to leave the hospital in a week, tops." 

Dawn and I share a look. We both know that I'll be better way before then. Even the new slayers will, too. Slayer constitution is a great thing. 

"Do you think you can sit up, Buffy?" The doctor asks. 

I take a deep breath and center myself. I can feel the muscles in my legs, still strong despite their lack of use. They feel tired but that's it. Without over-thinking it, I sit up and toss the sheet off. My bare legs are pale but nothing else looks wrong with them. I definitely need an appointment with a Lady Bic though. Dawn must realize the same thing because I can hear her stifle a giggle from the foot of the bed. My glare is enough to quiet her down. Without thinking much more about it, I swing my legs over the side of the bed. The doctor and nurse are instantly at my side. 

"You shouldn't do that yet!" the nurse warns. Both she and the doctor are trying to arrange me back in the bed, fussing over my 'overextended effort', but my slayer hearing picks up a sound from down the hall. A voice. Familiar. I can't believe my ears. 

Completely dismissing the doctor and nurse, I swing my legs over the side of the bed again and brace myself as I stand up. There's no pain and I'm less wobbly than I thought I would be. Dawn is making a face that I can only read as 'what the heck are you doing?' as she looks between the open-mouthed doctor and I, but I can't help it. I have to see for myself. 

Slowly but surely I start to walk toward the door, making sure that my hospital gown is closed behind me. My legs feel steadier with every step and by the time I've followed the voice out of my room and down the hall, it's like I'd never been in a coma to begin with. I stop outside an oak door five rooms down from mine with the doctor, nurse, and Dawn following right behind me, and I nearly freeze when I see her sitting there. She looks up at me and her dark eyes widen in surprise. 

"Buffy?" she asks. She looks unsure as my name leaves her lips. It's probably because she's never actually said my name aloud. 

After all, we've never physically met before. 

"Krista!" 

She instantly smiles and I find myself rushing over to her side as fast as my legs can take me. The doctor in her room jumps back when Krista swings her legs over the side of the bed and stands. I have a feeling a lot of the doctors are going to be having the same reaction with the other coma patients today. They're going to think there's been some kind of a miracle. Too bad we can't tell them we're hot chicks with superpowers. 

I don't think we can afford that many psych consults. 

When I finally reach her, we stand there awkwardly for a minute. We don't actually know each other. We've never met except for in the world in my head. But we were best friends there. She was always there for me, even when she wasn't supposed to be. After a moment we share a nervous smile and then we're hugging each other so tight it's hard to breathe. 

"I don't even know what's going on here, but man am I happy to see your face," she says. 

I can't help but chuckle. "This is so weird. I wonder how many of the others are here too." 

"Wait, others?" she asks, pulling back so that she can look in my eyes. "The only thing anyone has told me so far is that I was out for like two months and that my superpowers are all juiced up and ready for takeoff. Are you telling me that this is bigger than you and me?" 

She looks so confused and I want to answer her, but I can't do that without making the doctors think we're crazier than they already do. They're staring at us wide-eyed and the doctor that followed me from my room is feverishly scribbling down notes on a pad he was carrying in his pocket. 

"Do you think that we can have a few minutes?" I ask and he stops scribbling long enough to share a look with the second doctor. Poor guys. They don't know what to make of us. 

One of the nurses takes pity on them and points out that there are still other patients to see. They agree to come back within the hour to check on us . . . but I think that both of them are gonna be a little bit too intimidated to do so. When they clear out, Dawn excuses herself to take a run down to the cafeteria, leaving just Krista and I in the room. 

Krista takes a seat back down on her bed but she doesn't let go of my hand, so I hop on up next to her so that we're sitting sideways on the bed, facing each other. 

"Kris, what's the last thing you remember before . . . before the camp?" I ask. 

She takes in a deep breath and exhales it slowly through her nose. "I dunno. I was on the way to Sunnydale from Tucson. Would've been there sooner but there were these crazy guys with no eyes chasing after me for like, two weeks at least. I lost them just outside LA and hopped on a bus. That's when the lights went out, I guess. I can't remember anything after then that isn't all doom and campy gloom." 

"But you remember the camp?" I ask hopefully. 

"I dunno," she says again, her eyes trying to focus on some point across the room now. "I can see flashes of stuff. Kinda like I'm watching through a video camera that someone just threw black paint over. Every now and then the paint runs thin and I catch a glimpse but then it goes black again." 

"You remember me though." Nothing like pointing out the obvious, Buffy. 

"Yeah, I do. I don't know how, or why," she says, meeting my gaze again. "But I saw you at the door to my room and it all added up. It wasn't just some weird coincidence seeing you there like that after you were in my coma-dream for two months. I felt it inside; I knew you. And I knew that you know me." 

"We were friends," I explain, smiling sadly. "Things were bad. I was the outcast and you befriended me despite that. You know, I didn't have a single friend before you. I was alone and you showed me that I didn't have to be even though I tried to keep it that way." 

"Right, so clearly you remember more than me," she says, grinning softly. 

"Maybe a little," I reply with a shrug. Somehow I don't think Krista's going to go blabbing that to everyone and I told her the truth without even thinking twice. "Turns out that the big bad we were up against in Sunnydale used some kind of uber mojo on us – well, me specifically. The whole thing was a magical dimension that was set up in my head. We were trapped in my mind, Kris." 

She gives my hand a little squeeze and tries to smile reassuringly. 

"It's not your fault, Buffy. It could have happened to any slayer out there." 

"Yeah, but there were only two slayers at that time, and it happened to me." 

Suddenly she looks like she's concentrating, trying really hard to figure something out. Her brows are furrowed and I can tell she's frustrated. 

"Two slayers," she mumbles while deep in thought. "I think . . . I remember. So many blank faces, but I see yours. And . . . hers. I see hers too." 

"Whose?" I ask quietly. 

There's a loud crash by the door and we both jump, startled. And judging by the look on Krista's face, I'm not the only one surprised to see Faith there in a wheelchair, trying to keep her balance as another wheelchair crashes into her repeatedly from behind. 

"S'up guys?" Faith asks, a huge grin on her face. She winces as she's hit again from behind and her grip on the doorframe gives. Her chair is thrust into the room and another quickly follows it in, still trying to bang into it. Faith is trying to ignore it though and instead looks up at me, then Krista. "Hey K-doll. Nice to know you weren't just a figment of my warped imagination." 

Krista tilts her head to the side, staring closely at Faith's face. I guess the black paint thins enough for her to grab a memory flash because she furrows her brow and says, "Faith?" 

Faith grins again. "Got it in one, kid. Glad I made a lasting impression. I basically had to smack this one around a little bit to get her to admit that she remembers me." She hikes her thumb over her shoulder and indicates the person in the wheelchair behind her. 

Suddenly a head pops up, laughing, and smiles over at Krista and I. 

"Jo?" I ask, shocked. 

"Hey Buff, Kris," she says with a smile. God, I can't remember ever seeing her smile back in the camp. She looks so young and carefree. 

"How did you . . . how long have you . . . ?" I begin but she cuts me off. 

"Been awake just over a week," she explains. "Last thing I remember is a million and a half ubervamps and a knife to the back. Next thing I know I'm waking up in a hospital bed with some scary hairy legs and a crazy redhead in my face asking if I know you over and over again." 

"And you remembered?" Krista asks, sounding almost jealous that she can't recall everything. Personally, I think it's better that she doesn't. Nothing good can come from remembering all of the bad. 

If it wasn't for what I had with Faith, I wouldn't want to remember either. 

Jo shrugs, "Not everything. They showed me a couple pictures and I put some names to the faces. Just been waiting for everyone else. They've got me in this pretty sweet hotel. Better than any place I've ever stayed." 

God, she's like Faith Junior. No wonder they got along so well in the camp. And here in the hospital too, apparently. 

"My Doc said we'll be out in a day or two if all the tests are good," Faith interrupts. "He's pretty shocked that we're all up and walking so they're not gonna bother with the physical therapy." 

"Funny, I think our doctors are in the lunchroom sharing a bottle of vodka," Krista says. 

"Leave it to B to drive a man to drink," Faith says and I can't help but laugh. A comment like that from her would have driven me insane two months ago. And now, well . . . now I just have to smile. That's my Faith. 

Or it was. Now she doesn't remember, and if she does, she's keeping it secret. 

My smile falls and I look down at my lap. Faith must take notice because she wheels a little bit closer. 

"You look kinda tired, B. Want me to wheel ya back to your room? You can ride shotgun." She pats her lap and bounces her eyebrows playfully and I find my smile again. 

"Actually, I kinda wanted to talk to Krista a little bit more. Raincheck?" 

"Anytime," she offers. Her smile is soft and when I meet her gaze, something crosses between us. A memory washes over me: Faith pressing me against the door to her room and telling me that she'd never make me do anything I don't want to. Making me feel safe in her arms. 

She opens her mouth to say something and a nurse comes barging into the room looking anything but happy. 

"Ladies, if I've told you once I've told you five times now. No more wheelchair races! These are instruments for the disabled, not go-karts!" 

"Yes, ma'am," they say with false apology in their voices and quickly stand to follow her out of the room. When she's a few steps ahead, Jo steers her wheelchair right into Faith and takes off laughing, nearly knocking over an orderly on the way out. 

Faith calls after her but stops in the doorway and looks back at me, smiling. "Catch ya later, B." She winks and runs out, crashing into Jo just outside the door. 

I sit there chuckling for a minute, watching the doorway until I'm sure they're gone. When I look back at Krista, she's studying my face intently. 

"What?" I ask, suddenly self-conscious. 

"Her." 

"Her what?" I ask, confused. 

"Her face. I see her too," she explains, picking up our conversation right where we left off. 

"And what do you see it doing?" I ask warily. 

She thinks hard for a moment before saying, "I'm not sure yet. The paint is too thick. But all I know is that when I saw her at the door and the way she was looking at you, I felt irrationally jealous. Why do I feel jealous, Buffy?" 

I shrug just a little and sigh. "I don't know. If you remember though, maybe you can tell Faith and refresh her memory too." 

She's quiet again but then I see something familiar in her eyes. Remembrance. Cognizance. And I suddenly feel really, really naked. Did my hospital gown open up? 

"You and her," she says quietly. "I remember. Just flashes, but . . . I see it. I feel it. I remember it." 

Panic starts to wash over me and I take her hand again, having let go of it a few minutes ago. 

"Krista, I know we just met. Not really, but really. Or something. But please, you can't say anything to anyone. You have to promise me." 

"But Buffy . . ." 

"No," I interrupt, shaking my head. "If she remembers, she's pretending she doesn't, and I think it would kill me if I found out she went on ignoring it after she heard it from you. Please, just for now . . . please. If she doesn't remember anything, let's keep it that way." 

"That's crazy," she says, shaking her head. 

"Maybe it is, but I can't put myself out there like that. Not with Faith. If she was to throw it back in my face . . . god, I couldn't deal. If she brings it up to me, if she says something, that's fine. But I'm not forcing a memory on her." 

She stares at me, still shaking her head sadly. 

"Fine, I promise. But Buffy, I'm still not sure what really went on. Like I said: flashes. What I do see and feel though? It's all real. Talk to her about it. If I'm promising you that I won't say anything, at least promise me you'll try." 

"Fine, I will. But not now," I say dismissively. "Let's just focus on getting strong. Think you can walk?" She doesn't say anything for a few moments but finally relents and nods her head. "Good, let's go for a stroll. The sooner we can function normally, the sooner we can get out of here." 

She doesn't say anything more. She simply loops her arm through mine and stands up, taking a moment to find her balance. Within a minute we're out and walking down the hall with a couple of nurses following us, making sure we're okay. 

I really hope she keeps her promise, because I don't know if I can keep mine.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

True to slayer form, all of the girls were up and walking around before the day was over. They were given the cliff notes version of what happened, along with a slightly revamped version of the "One girl in all the world" speech that I was given when I was called years before. Understandably, the girls were anxious to test the limits of their slayerness which pretty much meant that they drove the nurses and orderlies a little bit crazy with wheelchair wars and push-up contests.

The doctors were baffled but excited. Honestly, I'm sure they were only excited because they got to clear more than forty suddenly annoying girls from their ward. In fact, they moved us all up to a different floor altogether and made sure that there were no other patients around to pester. 

They referred us all to a short-term care facility where we could go for occupational or physical therapy as needed because, according to their tests and observations, we're forty healthy girls that no longer need the care of a hospital. There's nothing more they can do for us now that we're awake, they said, and they've been given the go-ahead by the hospital supervisors to discharge everyone so long as we all pass one more set of individual tests. 

That's probably why I woke up bright and early. By the time I'm showered and ready to go, - and back in the draughty hospital gown until I'm told I can get dressed in something else - I realize that the hospital is still nowhere near to releasing all of us. They started their individual tests an hour ago, Giles said, and only thirteen girls have been cleared to leave so far. Xander and Anya are playing chauffeurs to the discharged girls and getting them back to the hotel. Dawn and Andrew are there getting everyone organized, and Giles, Kennedy and Willow are downstairs helping the hospital staff clear up any paperwork needed for discharge. 

The girls have been pigging out since they woke up this morning. Kennedy has made three trips to a local pizzeria for lunch and I'm pretty sure she'll make at least two more before all of the girls are released. 

Krista stayed with me in a double room overnight and made sure to make my business with Faith her business too. She went on about it for hours last night before I had to pretend to fall asleep just to get some peace and quiet. While she may be my friend, I was only five minutes from tying her up with her bedsheets and locking her in a janitor's closet. 

Trust me, it can be done. I had lots of practice with Dawn in her pre-teenage years. 

After the morning passes without a single visit from a doctor in our room, Krista finally goes and joins a couple of the girls having some fun out in the hall and I'm just taking a bit of time to enjoy the silence now. I keep wondering where Faith is and what she's up to but I can't bring myself to go and find out. Every time I see her my heart beats like crazy and I'm so afraid that she's going to hear it. She seems fine right now, not weird or twitchy at all. I don't want to give her a reason to be less than fine. I'll give it some time first. 

A soft knock on the door pulls me from my thoughts and I look up to see an orderly standing there, his triple-extra-large uniform looking a bit snug on him. 

"Hi," he says almost bashfully. He's got a tray in his hands and it looks like he's waiting to be invited in. "I've got some lunch for you. The nice girl with the red hair sent it up; says she knows you'll appreciate it." 

I glance at the tray and I suddenly remember why I love Willow so much. 

"Is that a skinny mocha and a chicken ranch sandwich on whole grain bread?" I ask, the aroma overtaking my senses. God, I hope I'm not drooling. I've already lost enough cool points with the hospital gown. 

"I'm not exactly sure," he replies. "I told her I wouldn't open it and so I haven't. Would you mind?" He indicates the space between us, still standing just outside the door. 

"Oh, of course. Come in." I smile at him and he smiles back even bigger. He steps into the room . . . and then promptly turns around with his back to me when I swing my bare legs over the side of the bed. I chuckle softly. "It's okay, they're freshly shaved and much less scary now." 

"I'm not worried about that, ma'am. I just wanted to make sure you're properly covered. My mama raised a proper gentleman." 

I make sure I'm properly covered and I tell him that he can turn around. He takes a quick glance back out of the corner of his eye and then visibly relaxes as he turns and closes the distance between us. He puts the tray down beside me and then completely surprises me by plopping down in the wooden chair next to my bed. 

"You girls sure are running the staff ragged," he says, dabbing at his brow with the back of his hand. "Never seen a group of sleeping girls wake up after two months with such an appetite." 

I self-consciously pull the sandwich from my lips and chew slowly, making sure to swallow before I reply. Hey, I can't help it. I'm a slayer too, you know. 

"Hey, no need to be embarrassed," he says, sitting forward. "Growing girls gotta eat. Which is why . . ." he smiles as he reaches into his right pocket and pulls out a package of Reese's Pieces, " . . . I brought you a snack." He hands them over to me and I take them slowly, a smile forming on my lips. 

"You brought these for me?" 

"Sure did," he says, smiling bashfully again. "I was here the first day they brought you in, and now here I am on the day you'll be leaving. And, uh . . . don't tell the others, but you were kinda my favorite." 

"I was?" I ask, my smile growing. 

"Well, yeah," he shrugs, trying to hide his embarrassment. "Sometimes I'd just come in here at the end of my shift and talk to you. Your sister told me it was okay; she thought you'd appreciate the company." 

"That's my Dawnie. And, well . . . I'm sorry the conversation was always so one-sided." 

"Oh, it's okay," he replies. "I don't have much in the way of friends. Sometimes it's nice just to talk, even if the other person can't hear or understand you. Heck, I even painted your nails a couple of times. I'm almost sad to see you go. I mean, I'm happy of course that you're not in a coma anymore, but . . . well, it doesn't matter, I guess." 

He looks down at his lap and smiles sadly. I do the only thing I can think of. I reach over and put my hand on his, then smile when he looks up at me. 

"For what it's worth, I really appreciate you taking care of me and just taking the time to be a decent human. I'll always be grateful for that." And then it hits me that I don't even know his name. "What can I call you?" 

He gets all bashful again and replies, "Bob. My name is Bob. But don't get me confused with night-shift Bob. That's Bob K. I'm Bob O." 

I knit my eyebrows together and purse my lips as I play that over again and again in my mind. 

"Your name is Bob O.?" I ask him. 

"Yes ma'am," he nods. 

After a moment I smile and shake my head. I tear into the small snack packet that my big, stocky orderly Bob O. smuggled in for me and chuckle quietly. 

I've definitely deja'd this vu before. 

* * *

Krista and I are the very last room that the doctors visit. They take their time administering different physical and mental tests that we both pass with flying colors. With a few last warnings given about avoiding undue stress and physical exertion, they sign our release papers and set us free into the world. Krista holds my hand as we make our way out into the sunshine together, both of us staring up at the beautiful blue sky without the usual barbed wire or stockade fencing blocking our way. 

I know it was all fake, but tears rush to my eyes nonetheless and it takes everything inside of me to stop them from falling. Krista gives my hand a squeeze and when I look over at her, she's smiling. 

"Come on, they're waiting for us," she says. 

She tugs me along with her towards the parking lot and I laugh when I look up to see Xander standing alongside a silver minivan, holding up a sign that says "Summers" in hastily scribbled red crayon. I stop just before him and give the sign a good once-over before smiling up at him. 

"Willow gets yellow crayon but I get red?" 

"Well, Willow and I have yellow crayon history. You and I, our crayon history is a little bit sketchy, so I improvised." 

I look at the sign again, then back up at him. "Red like blood? From all the monsters I've slayed?" 

He laughs nervously and even looks a little bit embarrassed. "Actually, red like ketchup, from the time I spilled it on your living room carpet and your mom banned us from eating in there ever again." 

"Ahh," I say, laughing quietly. "So a slightly less fun memory than the yellow crayon, huh." 

Xander just shrugs and smiles. "I dunno. I think they're both pretty great." We look at each other for just a moment more before he pulls me into a big hug and squeezes me tightly to his chest. "It's so good to have you back, Buffster." 

"It's good to be back," I reply honestly. He smells like fabric softener and cologne and it's instantly the second best hug I've ever had in my life. 

The first was from the girl sitting in the back of the van, watching us with a smile. 

"Are you guys gonna cry?" Faith asks, grinning. "Because if you cry, I'm gonna cry." 

"And if Faith cries, I'm gonna cry," Jo says, popping her head out from beside Faith. 

"And if they cry, I'm gonna cry,' Andrew says, kneeling up from the cargo space at the very back of the van. "In fact, I'm already crying a little." 

He sniffles and I hear a loud groan from the passenger seat. I look over to see Anya sitting there, rolling her eyes and looking impatient. 

"It's no wonder the demon world continuously tries to overtake the humans. You're all about as tough as a bag of marshmallows," she says, making all of us but Andrew laugh. "If we're through with the waterworks can we be on our way? I'd like to be back at the hotel before the last shopping excursion leaves. Kennedy paid me fifty dollars to stop harassing her and I'd like to buy something that I can show her my appreciation with. I was thinking something along the lines of a wood flute." 

"You can borrow my panpipes," Andrew says from the back of the van. At Anya's obvious glare, he ducks his head back below the seat and disappears from our sight. 

"Well, if we're ready to head off," Xander begins and then holds his arm out to indicate the opened side door. 

Jo and Faith are sitting in the two seats in the middle row, leaving the bench seat in the rear vacant. I move to hop in but Krista holds her arm out and stops me. 

"Oh, you know what? I get a little bit carsick when I sit in the back. Faith do you think I can take your seat?" she says. 

"See? Marshmallows," Anya grumbles to no one in particular. 

"Sure thing, Baby-K," Faith replies. She gets up and moves to the back and Jo sits up, ready to join her. Krista quickly grabs Jo's hand and stops her. At Jo's confused look , Krista continues. 

"Actually, Buffy gets carsick if she's in the middle." 

Jo raises an eyebrow but sits back down in her seat and Krista turns to me with a huge smile on her face that only Xander and I can see. That scheming little . . . 

"After you, Buffy," she says. 

Making a mental note to yell at her later, I climb in through the side door and squeeze between the middle seats to sit down in the back next to Faith. Faith smiles at me and gives my thigh a hardy pat. 

"Just do me a favor, B. If you're gonna yak? Yak that way." She hikes her thumb over the back of the seat to where Andrew is sitting and I can't help but laugh. 

"I'll do what I can." 

The front door closes and the van slowly backs out of the parking space. As we head off toward the highway, excited to get to a place we can temporarily call home, I realize that Faith hasn't moved her hand from my leg. 

The smile doesn't leave my face the whole ride. 

* * *

When we get to the hotel, there are a bunch of slayers climbing into a similar van just beside one of the side entrances. Xander pulls up alongside it and rolls down his window when Willow makes a little motion for him to do so. 

"What's up?" he asks. He's been completely cheerful the whole ride over. I think he's just happy to have our little family back together. In fact, I think we all are, hence the abundance of cheer from us all. 

"We're making our last mall run for the day and we're out of room in our van. Would you mind taking a couple girls in yours? I can repay you with appreciation. Appreciation and gas money." 

"I don't mind one bit. Anya wanted to buy something special anyhow," he says, trying to hide his smirk. Honestly, I can tell that he won't exactly mind if Anya drives Kennedy batty for a while. It's just payback for the battyness that Kennedy caused all of us back in Sunnydale. 

"Great," Willow says excitedly. She looks back into the van and smiles at all of us. "I know we haven't exactly gotten any of you settled into rooms yet but this will probably be the last shopping trip for clothes and supplies until late tomorrow." 

"I'll go," I say with a shrug. "You can take a girl out of the mall but you can't take the mall out of the girl. Besides, I love spending money that isn't my own." 

"And as much as I appreciate the loan," Faith says, hooking her thumb through her salmon-colored t-shirt, "pastels aren't really my thing. Count me in." 

"But Faith, I thought we were gonna get our room set up?" Jo asks, already half way out the door. 

"I trust ya to pick out a good one," Faith says with a wink. 

Luckily for me, Jo doesn't pursue it any further. She nods and jumps out the side door, Krista following quickly after her. Kris pops her head back in and smiles. 

"I'm feeling a bit spent so I'm gonna get situated and just relax for a bit. Pick me up something that doesn't make me look like a leprechaun?" 

I look down at her green jumper with the gold coin suspenders and have to stop myself from laughing. Oh yeah, that definitely came from Willow's wardrobe. 

"You can trust me," I nod. 

Jo and Krista follow Andrew and Dawn inside the hotel and within a few minutes, we have three more girls in our van. I recognize them from the camp; Niki, Shelly, and Luisa. They look back at Faith and I with what I can only describe as a bit of hero worship on their faces before settling in, trying to keep their cool. Two sit in the middle row and one has to squeeze on the back bench seat with Faith and I. Instead of keeping her window seat, Faith slides into the middle and lifts her arm up over the back of the seat to give us a bit more room. 

When everyone is loaded in and pre-paid Visa cards have been passed out, both vans head out of the parking lot and toward the mall. Shortly after we leave the lot, Xander hits a huge pothole and spends ten minutes blaming his lack of depth perception for the mishap. That doesn't matter to me though. What matters is that the van dipped so hard that we were all jostled around and Faith's arm fell over my shoulders. 

She doesn't move it away until we're at the mall and ready to head inside. 

* * *

We've shopped for what feels like hours and even grabbed dinner at the food court with Willow, Xander and Anya. It was nice to hang out with them and catch up on what's been going on, but it was even nicer that Faith was with us and that she didn't seem interested in leaving my side. 

In fact, she willingly went with me into all of the stores I wanted and pretty much kept the grumbling to a minimum. She bought a couple pairs of jeans and some tops that only she could get away with wearing, all in the first store we were in. One sturdy pair of boots later and she was done shopping. She could have gone off on her own but . . . she stayed with me. Even let me use the remaining balance on her Visa card which kind of makes me love her even more. 

Not that I can tell her that, but I think she was happy with how excited I was about it. I was even able to overlook the shopaholic jokes she made about me in the next seven stores I bought things in. 

When we passed by the food court we saw all of the slayers, along with Willow, Xander and Anya having dinner. Faith's eyes lit up and there was no way I could drag her into another store without feeding her first. I'd feel horrible. The gang invited us over to their table and we chatted a bit, though Faith and I were mostly interested in polishing off our food than talking about coma stuff. 

Willow made me promise that we'd have a sit down so that she could pick my brain about what happened and what it was like, and I agreed mainly because not even I can withstand her resolve face. I told her it would be soon but didn't tell her exactly when; I don't want Faith popping into the chat because then I won't be able to tell Willow everything. 

And I really need to tell someone soon because keeping it all inside, especially with how friendly Faith is being toward me now, is starting to get really difficult. 

When the gang has to take off to chaperone the freshly fed slayers around again, Faith and I are left alone once more. Seeing as that we're done shopping, we decide to grab a cold treat from the ice cream place and just wander around. We've been laying down for two months so even just walking sounds pretty nice right now. 

We're comfortably quiet as we stroll along the upper level. Faith is working on her four-scoop ice cream cone while I'm nursing my strawberry-peach smoothie. Yeah, I got picked on for that one too. I hear Faith chuckling again and I pull the straw from my mouth so I can glare over at her. 

"What?" I ask, feigning annoyance. 

"Nothin'," she says innocently. "It's just . . . first it was non-fat yogurt and now it's health conscious smoothies with protein powder in them?" 

"It's good!" 

"That's bullshit!" she says, laughing. She takes a long lick at her ice cream and I have to fight not to stare at her. "Now this? This is a masterpiece. Scoop of chocolate-peanut butter, scoop of cookies and cream, scoop of rocky road, and a scoop of chocolate chip cookie dough. It's basically snack perfection." 

"It sounds revolting," I say, ignoring her glare. "Why can't you stick to just one? Chocolate chip cookie dough is fine on its own." 

"Because I don't like to limit myself," she explains. "Variety is the spice rack in the kitchen, or some shit like that." 

"Well maybe you can get away with eating that, but if I try? Bam! Right to my thighs. Not only is that bad for me, but it's bad for you because then I'll have to drag you shopping with me again to return all of these clothes I bought for bigger sizes." 

Faith rolls her eyes. "B, one ice cream cone ain't gonna expand that hot little ass of yours." 

Her words take me by surprise and I look over at her curiously. Was that a slip-up or intentional? Judging by the smirk on her face, I'd say it was intentional. 

"Here, have some. I promise, your ass is safe." She stops walking and holds out her ice cream cone nearer to me. I stop and look down at it, then up at her face with my eyebrow raised. "What? What's wrong now?" 

"Nothing," I say quietly. "It's just . . . you've been licking that thing for like five minutes now." 

"And?" She asks. I must make a face because she suddenly looks both amused and offended. Only she can pull that look off. "You sayin' there's something wrong with my tongue?" 

"What? No! Your tongue is fine. It's a perfect specimen as far as tongues go." Wait, what? My eyes instantly widen as I continue to babble on about her tongue. Ahh, Buffy! No! What is wrong with you? Stop right now! Stop it! Quick, cover. "I mean, it's in your mouth and it's nice and pink and . . . and tongue-like. And . . ." Oh god. Kill me. Someone kill me right now. 

Faith goes from grinning to full out laughing now and I'm less than a second away from hopping over the rail and plummeting to my death. 

"Never knew you felt so strongly about my tongue, B," she says and winks. Now I know that I can't try her ice cream because the red hot heat in my cheeks will probably melt it all. She takes pity on me and stops laughing but the now soft smile never leaves her face as she gets even closer. "C'mon, just take a lick. Promise, I'm cootie-free." 

And rather than fighting her on it and babbling more inane things, I lean forward and take a quick lick. The ice cream is cool and refreshing and totally better than my smoothie. Faith keeps holding it there so I take another lick, then start walking slowly again with a smile on my face. 

"So?" she says after a few minutes of silence. 

I shrug. "You were right. It's the perfect snack." 

She doesn't do a victory dance; she doesn't tease me or even smirk. She simply smiles knowingly and hands me over the entire cone. 

It's so much better than the long forgotten smoothie. 

* * *

We're heading back to the area where the vans are parked when we pass by a store that I hadn't seen on the way in. Giles said that we should only shop for necessities, and well . . . these are necessities if I've ever heard of them. 

"Wait, let's make a pit stop in here," I say. I start to walk into the store with the decorative marble front when I hear an enthusiastic noise from behind me. 

"Now this is what I'm talkin' about!" Faith says, rushing back to my side with a huge smile on her face. 

"Calm down, Faith. It's Victoria's Secret, not Fredericks of Hollywood." 

"Potato, potahto. Just pick something out and start the runway show, blondie." 

"There will be no runway shows," I say sternly as I start flicking through a rack of bras. I can't help the way my lips are curling up in the corners as I try not to laugh. 

"Why the hell not? I sat through an hour of watching you try on jeans earlier, B. And they all looked the exact same!" 

"That's because jeans fit differently. And besides, would you want to buy underwear that someone else tried on?" 

"Wait, there's nothing different about ‘em. What if some chick tried on those jeans you bought while she was commando?" I grimace and Faith continues, "See? Same diff." 

"Well that just convinced me to become a nudist," I say, still grimacing as I put the hanger back on the rack. 

I can practically hear Faith's grin when she replies, "Score." 

I smile and shake my head without meeting her gaze. "I guess we can go and meet the others then. It's back to pre-packaged panties for me and I'm pretty sure they don't have any here." When I start to walk toward the exit, Faith puts her hand on my shoulder and stops me. 

"So panties are out, but ya probably need a bathing suit, right?" At my confused look, she continues. "I mean, California girl, middle of summer, pasty skin; you're gonna be outside on a lounger as soon as Giles lets ya buy one. Gotta be prepared, right?" 

And as much as I know she's just trying to get me to try something on for her, I know that she's right. I am pasty! Buffy of the past would never let me get away with being this pale. 

"Okay, fine. But you're still not getting a runway show." 

She relents but she still follows me around from rack to rack, picking up items and putting them back at random. We make small talk as I pick out a few bikinis and when I'm ready to try them on, I wait for one of the clerks to unlock the door for me. 

I hear Faith scoff a little and when I look over at her, she's holding up a shiny silver bikini with a halter top. 

"What's so funny?" I ask. I can't quite read the look on her face as she stares at the bikini. It's somewhere between amused and angry. 

"Add a few pieces of metal and chain mesh to this thing and it's like our armor," she says. She looks at it a few moments longer before putting it back on the rack a little bit more roughly than I think she'd meant to. 

This is the first time she's really said anything about the other dimension and I wonder what exactly is going through her mind right now and exactly how much of it she's willing to share. It's not exactly a big share either; any single one of the girls might recall something like that. I still don't know what she remembers about us. 

"Add a fashionable rip or two and some rust and, yeah; it's pretty spot on," I say quietly, admitting I know only as much as she does. 

After another minute or two of silence, she finally takes a deep breath and runs her hand through her hair. "It's not like it was real, but it all felt real, yunno? And I'm still pissed about it. Pissed that we had to go through that; pissed at how bad the First played everyone with the gnarly magic it used on all of us. Ain't nothing we can do about it now though; can't even go after the bastard and kick its noncorporeal ass." 

"I know," I say quietly, looking from her down to the garments over my arm. "For what it's worth, I feel the same way." 

"Yeah," she says just as quietly. She takes a few deep breaths and then shakes her somber mood off, literally. We get a couple looks from some young girls nearby but Faith doesn't seem to notice. "What the hell is taking the attendant so long?" 

"I don't know," I admit, looking around for someone to help us. "At this point though, I'm ready to go home. Here," I hold up the three bikinis that I've been carrying around for her to see them, "Pick one of these. If it doesn't fit, I'll just donate it to Dawnie." 

"Why do I get to pick if you ain't even gonna let me see ya in it?" she asks, grinning. I don't answer her; I just hold them out farther and wiggle them a little catch her attention. She looks down at them and shrugs. "I dunno; the black one?" 

"Really?" I ask, looking down at it. It's the most conservative of the three and I'm completely surprised that she picked it. 

"Yes? No? I dunno," she says. "Shit, you'll look good in all three of them. Then again you can probably wear a rabbit-fur bikini and still look great, so . . ." she trails off and shrugs again. 

But something she said catches my attention and I instantly look up at her face, remembering one of our last conversations we had in the other dimension: 

  
_"We'd find a little abandoned cave of our own and hunt rabbits and wear their fur like little bikinis."_

_"Gross. I am not wearing a fur bikini."_

  
I blink my eyes and shake my head lightly, trying to shake off the memory. She's looking at me weirdly and I have to say something. I have to try. 

"Gross. I am _not_ wearing a fur bikini," I say, repeating what I told her in the other dimension. I pause and watch her face closely. 

Her brow furrows for a moment and then her eyes suddenly widen. Recognition. She remembers. I don't know what exactly she knows, but she definitely remembers at least that much. 

"Uh, I . . ." she says, stumbling over her words while trying to find her cool. "Yeah, uh . . . I don't think PETA would appreciate that." 

"Faith?" 

I take a step closer to her and she takes three back. 

"Pick whatever one ya like, B. I'm gonna go and make sure the vans don't leave without us. See ya outside." 

She flashes me an overly bright smile before squirming between the racks and out the front entrance of the store. I watch her leave and when she's out of sight, I sigh and put two of the bikinis back on a random rack nearby. Making my way to the register with the black bikini in hand, I can't help but feel like we just took one step forward and two steps back. 

If she can't even admit that she remembers something simple without freaking when I'm practically begging her to continue, then I have to abandon all hope that she's going to willingly remember anything more than that.


	19. Chapter Nineteen

The ride back to the hotel is pretty much uneventful. Faith doesn't touch my leg or put her arm around me and she's not exactly talkative, but she also doesn't avoid me so I count that as a good thing. In fact, she went as far as loading my bags into the van for me, and now that we've arrived she's unloading them and carrying them inside.

"You _are_ aware that I'm a slayer too, right? Big and heavy bags - not so big and heavy, actually." I walk helplessly along beside her, trying to find something to do with my hands. I feel so useless right now. 

"Yeah, but you're practically a midget," Faith replies, grinning despite the fact that she's not looking at me. 

"And what, you're some kind of big, strongly-butch giant?" 

She shrugs. "That pretty much sums it up." 

We slip right back into our usual banter – minus all of the punches and kicks that usually accompany it – and I realize that this is one of my favorite parts of us. This little back and forth we have; it's always defined us and been the best part of us. Maybe now it's second best though; what we had in the other dimension – that was number one. 

I'm happy to take this for now, though. 

"You have two, two and a half inches on me, tops." 

"Three and a half with boots," she says and winks. We reach a pair of elevators not too far down the hall from the side door we came in through and Faith stops just in front of the one not bearing a ‘temporarily out of order' sign. "Up, right?" 

She presses the button to call the elevator and I have to fight not to roll my eyes. 

"Unless you were planning to sleep in the hotel basement," I say, wearing my own grin now. 

I hear her chuckle but there's no witty comeback this time. She shakes her head gently as she gazes up at the digital display above the elevator, watching as the numbers drop while the elevator descends. I can't stop looking at her, realizing again just how beautiful she is. My eyes scan over her and when I reach her face, I see her giving me a sideways glance. The corners of her lips are tugging up in a smile but she doesn't say anything; doesn't tease me like I'm expecting. A mechanical whirring in front of us grabs her attention and she looks forward again just as a bell dings and the doors open. 

"After you," she says and takes a step back, letting me walk in before her. 

I step in and to the side, giving her ample room to fit in with all of our bags. But then the girls that were shopping run up and hop in, toting their own plethora of bags. Faith and I both step back until I feel the cool metal wall push against me. The door starts to shut but then Anya grabs it and pushes it back open so that both she and Xander can enter. 

"Can't you guys take the other one?" Ashley whines, stumbling on her own feet as Anya pushes her way in. 

"The other one is broken," Anya explains. "Besides, I've played my part today. I've been on more car rides than I can count and have played chaperone to more adolescent girls than one should ever have to spend time with. I need a shower, a drink, and some orgasms, and I'm not too fussed about the order they're in." 

The girls look mildly horrified -- having never had to deal with Anya before -- and even Faith grimaces, but I can't help but smile. Just knowing that Anya is alive and still as honest as ever; yeah, I wouldn't trade that in for anything. 

Well, except for maybe a rewind button. I didn't need to hear that last part either. 

Xander clears his throat loudly and presses the button for the 5th floor. The silver doors slowly slide shut and Faith and I are shoved back even further until we're practically on top of one another in the corner. One of the shopping bags she's holding is pressing into places on me that no bag should press and a soft gasp leaves my throat. 

Faith, who has been trying to avoid my gaze for the last thirty seconds of close-togetherness, finally looks down at my face. Her gaze is soft and I try so hard not to get lost in her eyes, but it happens anyhow. I hear the soft thud of some shopping bags hitting the ground beside us and then Faith's hand finds its way to my side. She doesn't pull me closer, she doesn't grope me; she just keeps her hand there, holding me right against her while her thumb traces soft circles over my shirt. I put my hand on hers to keep it there and the tiniest of smiles forms on her lips. 

It's a definite moment, and it's cut all too short by the sound of a bell dinging and the doors sliding open. I hear Anya and Xander practically spill out of the elevator, followed quickly by all three girls. Faith and I are left standing here, her hand still at my side and my hand still keeping her held here with me. 

When the bell dings again, Faith drops the remaining bags and quickly jumps over to push the doors back open with her arm. It was a Superman kind of move and I instantly realize that she probably did it so that she doesn't have to be alone with me again. After all, it didn't turn out so well when we were shopping together earlier. 

"Sorry," she says sheepishly. "Just figured ya probably don't wanna be riding in the elevator all day long." 

"That's true," I say, clearing my throat quietly. 

She starts to say something else but a loud laugh from the hall stops her dead. Her brow furrows and she moves slowly, taking a couple steps out of the elevator while keeping a hand on the door so it doesn't slide shut. I see her profile from the side and watch her eyes widen in realization. 

"Jame?" she says slowly. "Rache?" 

I step over to her and peer down the hall to see two girls I don't recognize talking and laughing with Jo and Krista. They must realize they're being watched because they look over at Faith and huge smiles spring up on the faces of whom I can only assume are Jamie and Rachel. 

"Faith!" they yell simultaneously. 

"They said you might not wake up!" one of them says as they start getting closer. 

Wait, why wouldn't she have woken up? If everyone else was slowly waking up over time as they died in the other dimension, wouldn't Faith too? 

Faith looks over at me, her eyes pleading. "B," she says. 

I smile at her and put my hand on the door so that she can take hers away. 

"Go," I say softly. She smiles back and before I know it, she's halfway down the hall and giving Jamie and Rachel a slayer-sized bear hug. 

They're all laughing and smiling and I'm so completely happy for Faith right now. Those are her friends; people she became close with on her own and that she lost in the blink of an eye. Now they're back, and they remember her. And she remembers them, and she's happy. 

So why the hell when she remembers something about me does she freeze up and walk away? Shaking my head slightly, I gather my bags from the floor of the elevator and stand up to find Willow standing just outside the doors in the hallway. Her smile is so big and the bags are back on the floor before I know it, my arms holding her in a tight hug. 

"I missed you too, Buffy," she says. "But you're kinda squishing me." 

We both laugh and I let her go, just taking her in without the hospital background. She's smiling and she has tears in her eyes but she's doing her best not to let them fall. In an effort to distract herself, she grabs a couple of my bags from the floor and nods at me over her shoulder as she starts off down the hall. I pick up the last few bags and follow along after her until we're walking side by side again. 

"This is all thanks to Angel," she says, nodding to the hallway around us. "One of his former clients owns this hotel and they've been letting us stay here for pennies, really. He helped with some money to get us on track when girls started waking up, and now that he's running Wolfram and Hart, he's been letting us use the company jet to take the girls home when they're ready to leave us." 

I stop dead in my tracks and literally have to shake my head to try to process all of that at once. 

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. It sounded like you said Angel's running Wolfram and Hart and that we're sending girls home on Evil Airways." 

Willow chuckles nervously and starts walking again, hoping I'll catch up. I do, and she continues, "It's a long story, Buff." 

"Cliffs Notes version?" 

She thinks it over for few moments and I can see that she's trying to come up with the most informative way to say it in the least amount of words. 

"He's mounted the beast and is trying to make it his bitch?" she offers, and we both break out into giggles. 

"Maybe we can try going over that one again later," I say, and she nods. "Why are we sending girls home?" 

She takes a deep breath and sighs. "You've been in a magical coma for two months, Buffy, but a lot of the other girls weren't in that long. They woke up disoriented and scared and some of them wanted something familiar; home. We didn't know what was going on at first so we sent the first handful of girls home without digging to make them recount what happened. Others stayed because they didn't want to go back to their old lives. We've been working with them since." We get to a door marked 522 and she stops. "This is mine and Kenny's room. We'll get you squared away in a room shortly, but Giles wants to speak to you first. Come on in, he'll be here in a few minutes." 

I nod and follow her inside the modest room. There's a queen-sized bed, a desk, a TV and a dresser, but not much else. 

"You guys have been staying here for two months?" I ask as I look around. It's kind of like a prison but with a floral motif. 

"Yeah, but for what it's worth, we really haven't spent much time here. We were at the hospital most days and our free time was spent in libraries and in Wolfram and Hart's archives, trying to figure out a way to help everyone." She picks up some clothes from the bed and throws them into a drawer. 

"And I'm guessing that research wasn't very fruitful," I say as I take a seat. 

She sits down next to me and shakes her head sadly as she stares down at her lap. "We tried everything we could think of, Buffy. Reversal spells, chants, rituals, but nothing could get through The First's magic. It knew magic before magic existed on Earth. After a week we knew something was really wrong when Amanda woke up. She told us that she remembered being killed by a sword in some kind of an arena. And . . . she remembered you." 

She glances up at me and I instantly look away, tears forming in my eyes. 

"Oh Buffy," she says, scooting closer and taking my hand in hers, "I wasn't accusing you of anything. The First created a horrible world inside of your head . . ." 

"You're right, it was horrible," I interrupt, then look up at her. "But that doesn't excuse anything that happened." 

"So you remember?" she asks gently. 

It takes me a second but I eventually nod. There's no use in lying to my best friend. I can leave some stuff out, but I can't let her think I'm completely clueless. She'll never buy it. 

"Yeah. And what I did – what I had to do, just to survive; it really was a nightmare, Wills." 

"I know," she nods, her bottom lip coming out in sympathy. She runs one of her hands down my hair, trying to comfort me. "But if that hadn't happened; if you'd never had to . . ." she trails off, choosing her words carefully. "Buffy, if those girls hadn't died in your mind, then they never would have woken up here." 

"So cutting them down like cornstalks was the right thing to do. Yay me," I reply sarcastically. 

Willow smiles a little but it's gone after just a second and she looks serious again. "The First created the dimension in your head with its magic, but it couldn't control what happened inside of it. It probably thought you would all fight as a team and no one would die, but I guess it never planned on the demons taking over and using slayers to fight." When I raise an eyebrow at her, she explains, "We don't know everything that happened, but we've been able to put together bits and pieces based on the accounts of girls that woke up. They don't remember much, but the longer they're awake, the more flashes and memories they get. Still, it's limited and we have lots of gaps in the story." 

"And I'll try to fill in the blanks for you, Wills, but I'm not sure what help it will be now that everyone's awake." 

"Every little bit helps. If we can prevent this from happening again or from any possible magical relapse, it's a big deal." 

Something pings inside of me when she says magical relapse. Whenever I try to sleep, I'm able to slip back into the other dimension. If it's still in my head and I was able to take a walk down Nightmare Lane, does that mean other girls will be able to? And even more so, will they get stuck in there again? Oh god, I already have enough voices in my head. I don't need other people stuck in there now that I'm awake. 

There's a soft knock on the door and Willow stands up and crosses the small room to answer it. Giles is on the other side and he follows her into the room carrying a few folders under his arm. He sees me sitting on the bed and his face lights right up. He seems so relieved; like a weight has been suddenly lifted from his shoulders. 

He does something which is very untypical of him and walks over to me, then pulls me up against him in a tight hug. His embrace is familiar and warm and I can't help but smile as I rub my cheek against his shoulder. This is what a father is. 

"Hi, Giles." 

"Hello, dear," he replies. "It's wonderful to see you up and about." 

"It's just wonderful to see you, period," I say and pull back to look up at his face. He looks tired like he hasn't slept in months. Knowing Giles, he probably hasn't. "You weren't exactly present in the hellverse." 

He nods in understanding, smiling sympathetically. "Do you recall much of your time there?" 

"Most of it, except for the parts where I was unconscious for days at a time after some fairly heinous beatings." 

"Ah. ‘Hellverse' seems like quite an appropriate name in that case," Giles replies. 

He holds his hand out to indicate the bed behind me and I take a seat next to Willow again. He doesn't sit but instead chooses to pace slowly around the small space. It looks like something he's gotten used to doing over the last two months. 

"So I died, obviously," I say, getting their attention. "There was a rebellion. Girls were dying left and right. There was nothing I could do. I fought right until the end." 

"Which is exactly what The First wanted. It knew that you would continue to fight, as you've done in all aspects of your life. So long as you were alive in the other dimension, he could keep the other slayers trapped there until their death," Giles says. "They've been waking up sporadically over the last two months and we were eventually able to link their reemergence _here_ to their deaths _there._ They could recall their own deaths, and after a short while, a few more bits and pieces." 

"Even with the insider info, we still couldn't pull anyone out. Not even Faith, and she went in after the fact," Willow says, and suddenly she has my full attention. 

"I thought you guys said she spent a week at my side in the hospital. If that's the case, how exactly did she ‘get in'?" 

"The magic was designed to work for either you or Faith. Once you were injured and fell unconscious, it pulled the other slayers in but not her. She agonized at your bedside for a week, and when Amanda woke and relayed the memory that you were indeed trapped in that world, well . . ." he shares a look with Willow who sits up, her eyes wide. 

"That's a part of the story Faith should explain," she says, then looks my way. "Us telling you about it would be largely speculative and I'm pretty sure Faith dislikes speculation about her, especially when . . ." 

"I get it, Will," I say, smiling. "I'll ask Faith. But just for the record, what did she say she'd do if you told me?" 

Willow cracks a small smile and laughs nervously. "Nothing that some time in a hospital won't fix, but I'm fairly sure that arms don't grow back and I'm pretty attached to mine." 

"Ah," I say, shaking my head in amusement. Making a mental note to have a chat with Faith, I decide to change the subject. "So now that the last of the girls are awake and in good health, what's the plan? From what I hear we can't exactly go back to Sunnydale." 

"That's very true," Willow says. 

"We don't have what we could call a concrete plan at this point," Giles says. "Many of the slayers have decided to go home, at least for a while. Their parents want them home after such an ordeal and the girls themselves have lots of thinking to do. We'll be in regular contact with them and if they decide they'd like to come and receive proper training, they'll be welcomed back." 

"But what about the rest of us?" I ask. Dawn and I don't exactly have a family to go back to anymore. My friends, they're my family now. 

"I've been working on securing a more permanent place for us to stay, with room enough to support both us and any slayers that may like to join us. So far, Jamie, Rachel, Krista, Jo, Kennedy, Rona and Vi have expressed interest in staying with us to pursue their calling. And I can't speak for everyone, but I know I'd very much like it if you and Dawn would join us." 

"I go where my family is," I say and he smiles at me, as does Willow. 

"I'm happy to hear that, dear. I don't know what the future holds for us just yet, but we can begin to plan once we're settled and out of this bloody American hotel chain. One more over-starched towel and I just might lose my mind." 

Both Willow and I laugh and even Giles smiles through his frustration. We sit and chat for a while longer, Giles talking about his hopes to revive the Watchers Council and build it from the ground up to be a more slayer-friendly establishment. Apparently he's found an apartment building that will sublet two entire floors of a three-story building for a reasonable price. He's working on closing the deal in a few days and plans to have us out of the hotel and moved in within a week. 

That gives me seven days to convince Faith that she wants to live with us. 

And that she loves me, or at least that she did. 

I think I may have my work cut out for me. 

* * *

Kennedy eventually came into the room, sweaty from her daily jog and in desperate need for a shower. Needless to say, I volunteered to leave then and Giles agreed to show me to my room. It's just across the way and over from Willow and Kennedy's room, lucky number 525; lucky, according to Giles, because I have no roommates for a change. 

I don't know if I exactly consider that lucky or not; I got so used to sleeping in the camp with all of the other slayers, and later with having Faith as my roommate. The old me would have loved my own private space, but now I'm just feeling a little bit out of sorts and . . . well, lonely. 

My first order of business was to organize my new clothes into the dresser drawers and closet, and my second order of business was to have a long and relaxing bubble bath. Now that I'm clean and organized, I have nothing left to do but sleep. I climb onto the queen-sized bed and slip under the covers in my bath robe. The blankets are clean and crisp and the mattress is just the right amount of soft yet supportive. I snuggle in, burying my face against the soft pillows, and I sigh. 

There's no way I'm going to be able to sleep like this. Luxury is great, but when your body remembers sleeping on the hard ground or a lumpy cot for more than two years, it's hard to slip back into the norm. 

I grab a pillow and a blanket and settle down onto the floor next to the bed. The air conditioning unit is continuously blowing and it eventually lulls me to sleep. Just like in the hospital, I find myself slipping into the magical dimension still tucked away in my head. It's less jarring this time, finding myself back in the arena with bodies all around me, especially since I know I won't be permanently stuck here. 

I start to slowly walk around the rubble and carnage, clenching my jaw to keep back my emotions. There are faces I recognize and even faces that I saw just a few short hours ago when we got back to the hotel. There are no signs of life anywhere and the only movement is that of the smoke from the still smoldering and charred stadium around us. I don't want to be here, but still, it's familiar. Something moves off to my side and I turn, on guard, to see someone standing there with their back to me. 

"Faith?" 

"What the fuck am I doing back here?" I hear her say, her back still to me. Her body is tense and I'm not exactly sure if she knows if I'm actually here or not. 

I slowly approach until I'm just behind her. I want to reach out and touch her but . . . this doesn't feel right. She shouldn't be here. 

"Faith?" I try again and she spins around, her hand grabbing my wrist as it was half way up to touching her shoulder. 

"What the fuck am I doing back here?" she repeats through clenched teeth and I can see the fear in her eyes. 

"We're dreaming," I explain, wincing at the force with which she's grasping my wrist. "This world, it's still in my head. The magic is broken though, so we're not trapped. We're not stuck here." 

She takes a second to process that and finally releases my wrist, which I rub tenderly. 

"Sorry," she mumbles, and glances around the ruins. "This is fucked up." 

"I know." 

"How do ya know for sure that we ain't stuck?" 

"Because it happened to me at the hospital," I answer and her gaze moves back to me. 

"You think maybe that's something you shoulda brought up to someone?" she asks in disbelief. 

"Well, I will _now_!" I look away from her, trying to avoid her eyes. "I didn't think anyone else could come back. I mean, this thing is in my head; I didn't exactly expect visitors." 

"I didn't exactly expect to visit," she says, her voice sounding a bit more relaxed and much less accusatory now. "One minute I'm climbing down to the floor to catch some zzz's . . ." 

"You're sleeping on the floor too?" I interrupt, looking back at her again. 

"Well, yeah." She shrugs. "Kinda hard to be comfortable when ya spent so long being anything but. Or, I mean . . . I guess that was all fake, but . . . yunno." 

"Yeah, I do," I say quietly, then look down at my feet. It was all fake. She's convinced herself of that. Maybe I should do the same. "I'll tell Willow about it." 

"Might be a good idea. Not that I'm hating bein' here with ya, but . . . I don't wanna be back here. Too much . . ." she trails off and looks into my eyes, then shakes her head as she looks around. "It's just too much." 

"Yeah, it is," I agree. "I'll see if Willow can seal it up or zap it out." 

Silence falls around us and I'm not sure that either one of us knows exactly what to say or do next. Faith clears her throat and I press my lips together in a straight line as I stare down at my feet again. 

"So, how do we get out? Gotta click our heels together three times and say there's no place like home?" she asks, and I can't help but smile. 

"You do it, I'll watch." 

Suddenly I feel her fingertips under my chin and she tilts my head up so that I have to look up into her eyes. 

"You okay?" she asks. 

I don't know exactly what I can say so instead I shrug. She looks worried for a split second but then she smiles. She takes a few steps until she's standing right behind me and I nearly melt when I feel her arms encircle my waist. My eyes flutter shut and my breathing is immediately shaky. 

We're in hell, but I feel like I'm in heaven. 

"Hold on, B. Gonna pull a Dorothy and get us the hell outta Oz." 

I hear her heels click together a few times and I smirk. Her chin rests on my shoulder and I feel her breath against my ear when she whispers, "There's no place like home." 

When I open my eyes, I'm back on the hotel floor and I can see the bright sun shining through the space between the thick curtain panels. I slept through the entire night. 

And I can't believe that someone is knocking on my door this early! 

I groan and stand up from the floor, making sure that my robe is properly tied on. I don't feel like giving a peep show this early in the morning. Stumbling across the room, I finally reach the door and pull it open, surprised to see Faith standing on the other side. She's fully dressed and showered and holding two paper cups filled with what I can only assume is coffee. 

"You were still sleeping?" she asks as she checks me out from head to toe. 

I self-consciously close the robe a little tighter and run a hand through my messy hair, making her smirk. "It's morning, Faith. People sleep in the morning, and I happen to be a people, in case you haven't noticed." 

"Oh, I've noticed," she says and winks at me. "But it's not morning, it's already after noon, and you just slept for like two months." She hands me a cup and pushes past me into the room, checking it out. "Single; nice. I'm in a double with Jo." 

"I heard," I say absently, shaking my head as I try to figure out what's going on. Was what happened in my sleep last night just a dream? 

"Yeah, word travels fast around a bunch of teenage girls," she says as she plops down on my bed. "Anyways, get dressed. We've got places to see, things to do." 

"We do?" 

"We do," she confirms. 

"Like what?" I open one of the dresser drawers and pull out some clothes, and when I stand up and turn to face her, she's standing right in front of me. 

"Well, if Red's really gonna zap away the place in there," she taps her finger gently against the side of my head, "we gotta find a way to remember it." 

"And how do we do that?" I ask warily. 

The huge smile on her face isn't nearly enough to distract me when she answers, "Tattoos." 

* * *

Five hours and lots of discomfort later, we walk out of the tattoo parlor with Jo and Krista, all of us sporting our new tattoos. We asked Shy to do them – yes, she really exists – but she didn't have the proper equipment needed and wasn't exactly willing to jab us with a homemade needle and pen ink when there was an alternative available. 

Jo and Krista both got the tattoo on their lower backs but I decided to get mine on the back of my neck. Faith was going to get hers on her hip but she changed it up at the last minute and got hers on the back of her neck too. 

She said it just seemed right that we got them in the same place, being the chosen two and all. I couldn't argue with her on that; it felt right to me too. 

"When does the stinging stop?" I ask. 

"Jeez, you can handle getting sliced and diced for seven years in Sunnydale but ya can't hack an hour of tiny little needle pricks?" 

"It was my first tattoo!" I lamely defend. 

"Yeah yeah, ya big baby," Faith says playfully. She steps behind me and pulls my hair to the side, then blows some cold air on the area that's already covered with some kind of gel. 

A chill rolls down my spine and makes my toes curl. 

"Better?" she asks, her lips dangerously close to my ear. 

I suddenly forget about the stinging because all I can feel are the goosebumps on my skin and the butterflies in my stomach. 

"Yeah. Much." 

God, I've got it bad.


	20. Chapter Twenty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is the end! Thanks for reading, especially to those who sent along their thoughts.

Five days have passed and we're seeing off the last of the slayers that are going home to their families. I'd love to say that there's been some huge progress between Faith and I and that we're on our way to a happily ever after, but that's not the case. In all fairness, we're closer now than we ever have been in this reality. Friends, even. But she clams up whenever I try to dig and I can't bring myself to divulge any of my feelings if I don't know for sure that she's feeling them too.

And I mean, I'm pretty sure that she does. The way she talks to me, the way she looks at me . . . I feel like it's right there underneath the surface. Like she's waiting for me to give her a sign. 

But I'm a chicken, and she is too. We push and we pull but neither one of us gives. I've had enough time to think about it all when I lay alone in my room every night, hoping she'll come to me instead of getting up off of my own ass and going to her. I think I understand why we're scared though. It's taken almost a week of going over it again and again to figure it out, but I finally did. 

What it all comes down to is this: 

Back in Sunnydale, Faith and I were indifferent toward each other at best. There was tension and, let's face it, more mixed signals than we knew what to do with. Life was crazy though and even if there were feelings buried beneath it all, we didn't have time to focus on them. We had to save the world. 

Fast-forward two months and a long nap later and we're in love. Love like I've never felt before. It worked for us in the other dimension because there was nothing there to distract us. Nothing there to be afraid of. It's easy not to have fear when you have nothing to lose in the first place. 

But we're not in that dimension anymore. We're here – home - living and breathing and suddenly we have everything to lose. 

So we're both chickens, and we're both terrified to lose something we've never actually had, and neither of us can pass ‘go' or collect our two-hundred dollars until one of us finally confesses to the other what we really feel. 

And that is why we've made no progress in the last five days. 

Understandable, right? 

I shake the thoughts from my head, not wanting to make myself crazy with it when I should be paying attention to the task at hand. 

"You guys know that you can come back any time, right?" I ask as I load two more duffel bags into the back of one of the vans. 

"We know," both Hazel and Laura reply. 

"We're leaving here tomorrow and heading off to our new place. Giles thinks we'll be ready to start bringing girls back to train as soon as a couple of months from now. We'll call when we're all set up and, if you're ready for us, well . . ." I trail off and smile and both girls nod in understanding. 

"Got it. We see the Bat-signal, we come a-runnin'," Hazel says. 

"I think we'll be a bit more modest than a flashy light in the sky, but that's the gist of it, yeah," I reply, laughing softly. 

It's hard for me to believe but I'm going to miss these girls. All of them. They were my family in the other reality, but now we have to send them back to their real families; at least until we come up with some kind of great cover story so their parents will allow them to come back. 

They take their turns giving me, Krista, and Jo hugs goodbye and are just about to hop in the van to the airport when we hear someone calling out from down the sidewalk. Needless to say, each and every one of us is all smiles when we see Faith jogging up to us with a small white bag in her hands. 

"Hold up a sec!" she yells as she approaches. When she finally stops in front of us, she reaches into the bag and pulls out a clear plastic casing. She tears it open and out slips a pay-as-you go cell phone. Pressing a few buttons, she smiles happily as the phone lights up and comes to life. "Gimme your hands," she tells Hazel and Laura, looking up at them. 

They don't hesitate for a second and anxiously lift up their hands in front of her. Faith reaches into her back pocket and slips out a black Sharpie marker. She pulls the cap off with her teeth and glances at the small screen, copying the number down onto their opened palms. 

"You need anything," she mumbles around the pen cap, "you call. Any time, night or day, whatever. I'll never turn it off. And I'm serious: anything. Even advice on a prom dress, though I'll probs flake on ya and tell ya to wear a tux instead." 

She pulls them into a giant hug and as I watch on, smiling, I feel someone step up behind me. I don't look over but I can tell by the breathing and by the soft scent of soap and cologne that it's Giles. 

"She has quite a way with them, doesn't she," he says. 

"You have no idea," I reply, recalling all of the girls she helped in the other reality. 

"It goes without saying that she'll be quite an asset once we're in a position to begin helping slayers. I think she'd be wonderful in a role where she can mentor as well as physically train the young slayers." 

"I agree." 

"You and she," he begins quietly after a few moments pause, "you've become very close." 

I look up at him and see him studying my face intently. Smiling softly, I nod my head and look back over to where Faith, Jo, and Krista are now waving at the departing van. 

"We have." 

He doesn't say anything in response but only steps closer and presses his lips to the top of my head. I close my eyes and smile again. He knows more about me than I can ever begin to imagine, and this is his way of telling me that he supports me. Whatever happens between Faith and I . . . he'll be there for me. 

When I open my eyes to look up at him, I see that he's already several steps down the sidewalk and heading toward the second van that Xander is busy loading with bags. Giles and Anya are going to close the real estate deal today and they're going to spend the night at the new place, getting it ready for the rest of us to arrive tomorrow. Xander, Andrew, and Dawn are going with him as well, having been recruited by Giles to help get everything set up. 

I start to walk toward the second van to say goodbye to them when I feel an arm sling over my shoulder and a hip bump into mine. 

"You looking forward to tonight?" Faith asks, a big smile on her face. 

"You _do_ realize that we're probably going to get busted and spend the night in jail, right?" I ask. 

"You doubt my bribing prowess?" she asks, and when I raise my eyebrows, she feigns hurt. "Really, I'm wounded, B. Listen though, there's nothing to worry about. I sweet-talked the night manager and he said that he'll turn his head the other way if we wanna take the rest of the girls into the hotel bar. It's not like it's the weekend so they're not gonna be all that busy anyhow." 

"What exactly does ‘sweet talking' involve?" I ask her, and when she wiggles her eyebrows, I groan and chuckle at the same time. "You do realize that Giles frowns on you using your feminine wiles to get what you want, right?" 

"Yeah, But what G don't know won't hurt him and he's about to leave here in ten minutes anyhow. So, come on. You gonna come with us tonight? The last of the girls are really lookin' forward to it and it might be our last chance to kick up our heels for a while." 

I pretend like I'm thinking it over despite the fact that I made up my decision to go when she mentioned the idea to me last night. Of course I'm going. If it means I'll get to spend some time with Faith, well . . . I'm there. 

"Fine, fine. Twist my arm. Nine o'clock?" 

"Sharp," she replies. "And I'll be wearing black. Yunno. Just in case ya wanted to color-coordinate." She winks at me and then takes off back into the hotel, shouting her goodbyes to everyone getting into the second van. 

Nine o'clock can't come soon enough. 

* * *

I spent the day doing a little bit of extra shopping – thanks to a small loan from Angel – and making sure everything is packed up for tomorrow. Faith and Jo have been with Jamie and Rachel most of the day, and Krista has made friends with Rona and Vi so she hasn't been around much either. That's good though because it gave me some alone time to regroup. Whatever happens is going to happen. I won't fight it. 

I start getting ready for the night at just around seven thirty, making sure that my makeup and hair is absolutely perfect. When I'm satisfied with my progress, I slip into the shimmery white sundress that shows off my freshly tanned skin. My new strappy sandals and silver necklace are the finishing touches and I stand in front of the mirror, admiring myself. 

Good luck resisting, Faith. 

Smirking, I look over at the digital alarm clock and see that it's exactly 9:00. Perfect timing. Grabbing my room key and tucking it safely away in my bra, I take one last glance in the mirror and then head out the door. 

By the time I catch the elevator and get down to the lobby, it's almost 9:05. I can hear music pumping from the bar just down one of the main corridors and I smile. I can't wait to see Faith. The music gets louder and the closer I get and when I walk through the front entrance, I'm not surprised to find all of the slayers and even Willow out on the dance floor. 

Actually, not all of the slayers. There's one standing at the bar grinning at me, her black leather pants and tiny black tank top hugging her curves in all of the right places. Her long wavy hair is cascading down her back and my breath catches in my throat. God I could kick myself for not realizing back in Sunnydale how hot Faith looks in leather. 

Maybe she's not the one who'll need luck resisting tonight. 

"You're late," she says as I approach her, letting her eyes roam over me. 

"Perfection takes time," I reply playfully. 

She hands me a drink from the bar and takes one for herself, then holds it up between us. I clink my glass against hers and down it back in one shot, not caring what it is. It doesn't taste too bad – obviously she knew that I wouldn't like something too hard or horrible-tasting – so I don't hesitate when the bartender hands us over two more. We both tip them back at the same time and I lick my lips when I set the empty glass back on the bar. 

"You want another?" she asks me and I see that the bartender has already started pouring them. 

I shrug and nod. It's liquid courage, right? Hopefully it'll work on Faith if it doesn't work on me. We finish our last drink for the moment and she takes my hand without asking, leading me out toward the dance floor. The only people dancing are the slayers and Willow and the few other patrons around the bar are barely paying us any attention at all. Krista waves excitedly, as does Willow who looks relieved to see me. She starts to dance over our way, but then Faith tugs on my arm and pulls me closer so that my back is to Willow. 

"Remember how much fun we used to have dancin', B?" Faith asks, her breath warm against my ear. 

"It's one of our better pastimes," I reply, smiling. 

Willow? What the heck is a Willow? 

"Then let's show these kids how real slayers do it." 

We fall into step perfectly, better than we ever have. Every move compliments the other no matter what kind of music plays. We're close but not overtly groping each other, clearly pushing the bounds of how close friends can dance without it being weird. 

But it's not weird, it feels anything but weird, and I hope to god that regular friends don't dance like this. No wonder guys drool when they see two girls dancing together. 

Hours pass and we stay on the dance floor the whole time, not even stopping to get drinks or mingle. Kennedy brought us a couple of bottles of beer a while ago and Willow was on drink duty for a while because, unlike the rest of us, she doesn't have slayer stamina. 

It has to be nearly one in the morning when the music changes from dancey pop to a much slower, grindier song. It doesn't throw any of us and Krista giggles drunkenly, commenting on the fact that we're all lacking partners to grind on. Kennedy and Willow partner up making the rest of the girls hoot and holler at them. 

But no one makes a peep when Faith spins me around and pulls me right against her so we're chest to chest. The move only momentarily surprises me but I quickly catch my footing and follow her lead, resting my arms up on her shoulders. She smiles and leads us a few feet away from the girls, giving us a bit more space and privacy. 

We haven't danced quite this close all night but I'm certainly not complaining. I can feel a strong leather-covered knee between my thighs but Faith isn't pressing her luck; she's keeping it fairly respectable . . . at least for the moment. Her exposed skin is hot and damp with sweat and it takes everything inside of me to stop from running my hands up and down her body. 

"You havin' a good time?" she asks over the music, her breath once again warm on the side of my face. 

"Yeah," I reply. "You?" 

"Pretty much," she says and I can practically hear the smile in her voice. "You sure you don't mind dancin' with me like this? Didn't mean to go all Johnny Castle on ya but somethin' about ya brings out the dirty dancer on me." 

"Why would I mind? You're a great dancer!" I say, then something crosses my mind. "Wait, if you're Johnny, does that make me Baby?" 

She pulls back enough to look at my face and I can see that she's grinning softly. "I dunno, B. You wanna be my Baby?" 

"Is that a bona fide offer?" I ask playfully, not sure if she really meant it or if she's just playing. 

Faith just chuckles and shakes her head, pulling me fully back against her. "We sure are great dancers. We dance around everything, huh." 

"It's a part of how we've always been together," I admit, knowing that she's not exactly talking about our actual dance moves. I wish I could see her eyes right now . . . 

. . . and wishes apparently are coming true tonight because she pulls back and looks into my eyes, a serious look on her face. 

"So let's lay our cards on the table for a change and break the habit. What do ya say?" 

"I say . . . you go first," I reply, almost kicking myself for saying that. 

Faith chuckles again and shakes her head but eventually nods. "Alright, fine. I can do honest. How's this: I remember stuff." 

"What kind of stuff?" I ask warily. We're barely dancing now, just kind of swaying to the beat. 

It looks like she's fighting with herself but she takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, obviously preparing to let a bombshell fly. I just hope it's what I think it is. 

"Stuff like this," she says, and suddenly she leans forward and captures my lips with hers, kissing me soft but enthusiastically. Her lips feel like heaven and my legs almost give from under me. Thank god she still has her hands around my back. 

She starts to pull back and I so want to put my hands on the back of her head and keep her lips to mine, but I reluctantly let her pull away. There's no way I can keep the smile from my face and when I'm able to open my eyes, I see she's smiling too. 

"Good stuff," I reply, still a bit dazed. 

Faith laughs and I feel her arms pull be a bit closer to her, if that's even possible. "Your turn," she says. 

"Alright," I say, thinking of something that will reveal something important but not too much. Baby steps. "I remember this," I begin, running my fingertips over the new tattoo at the back of her neck. It's the same as mine: a tribal band similar to the one on her arm with two Kanji symbols in the middle. They're the symbols for dream and reality. They're interlocked together, kind of like this reality and the one we were trapped in for two months. 

"That's not exactly something that happened in the other dimension." 

"I know," I reply. "But I remember my first tattoo, after Jo . . . well, _died_. You told me to send for Shy after we'd . . . well, after we . . . uhh, the first time . . ." 

"I think I got it," she says with a wink. "Not a bad memory if I say so myself." 

I chuckle and dip my head down in embarrassment, then look off to the side. Did I give away too much? Only a few moments pass and I feel her fingertips under my chin, making me look back at her. 

"My turn, right?" she asks, and when I nod, she continues. "I remember this." 

And suddenly her lips are on mine again, kissing me deep and intense, making my toes curl. Her tongue slides over mine and I moan into her mouth, chills running along my spine as her hands roam up and down my body. I practically melt when her fingernails scrape along the back of my thighs just under the hem of my dress and for a very brief moment I'm almost afraid that she's going to lift my dress up and over my head. 

Almost afraid. At this point, I don't think I would stop her. 

Her thigh presses snugly between my legs and I moan again, then notice that all of the slayers – and even the bartender, I think – are making catcalls around us. Faith's hands suddenly squeeze my butt and I force myself to pull back from the kiss, breathing heavily. 

"Your memory is awesome," I manage to say and she laughs again, her gaze never leaving mine. 

"I was kinda thinking the same thing," she replies. "You're up. What else do you remember?" 

I bite softly on my lower lip as I stare up into her eyes, trying to keep back my smile. 

"I think if I show you, we might get arrested for public indecency." 

"So do you wanna talk somewhere more private?" she asks tentatively and I nod. 

"Private sounds good," I reply, still breathless. "Though I'm not sure we'll do much talking." 

She smiles and takes my hand, leading me off the dance floor and toward the exit of the bar. The slayers are hooting and hollering still and when I look behind us, I see Krista giving me two thumbs up and Willow giving me a knowing smile. She's had her suspicions and I guess now they're confirmed. 

Faith tugs me along to the elevator and once we're inside and the doors close behind us, we're all over each other again. I know we're only a few floors up but it feels like the longest ride of my life. The shiny steel wall is cold against my back and Faith is hot against my front and all I can think about is getting back to my room. 

I know this isn't exactly how I saw this evening going but . . . I can't help myself now. Faith is right here in front of me and I want her, no matter how it is that I get her. I just need her. I can't turn away from this. 

"My room key is in my bra," I mumble against her lips and I feel her start to smile. Without pulling her lips from mine, she reaches between us and feels me up, stealing the key away without me even feeling it. "How did you do that?" I ask when the bell dings and the door opens. 

"I'm multi-talented," she replies, grinning. She places the card in my hand and waits for me to lead the way. 

Ahh, I guess this part is up to me. She's letting me take the lead for a change. 

I peek out into the hallway and when I see that it's empty, I pull her to me and start kissing her again. She kisses back just as enthusiastically and we somehow manage a backwards crab walk until I see we're standing just outside my door. I start to unlock it but I feel a hand soft on my wrist, stopping me. 

We stop kissing and when I look up at Faith, she's looking at me so intensely that my heart starts to ache in my chest. There's something in her eyes; she's waiting for something. I lean up to kiss her again but she pulls back just out of reach, still staring into my eyes. 

"It's still your turn, B. What else do you remember?" 

What? We're still playing that game? Okay, fine. I can do this. 

I smile sexily and look at her through my eyelashes, my hands pulling her hips against mine. 

"Well why don't you come inside and I'll show you," I say. 

She smiles nervously but shakes her head, her hands coming to rest on my sides. 

"Nuh-uh," she says. "Just tell me . . . something. Anything." 

Her eyes are pleading with mine again and I don't know exactly what she wants me to say. My hands slowly let go of her hips and hers tighten on mine, clinging to me. Clinging to some hope. 

"Why don't you just tell me and I'll tell you if I remember," I try and she shakes her head again. I hear her breath leave her throat, shaking gently. 

"Please, B," she whispers, pressing her forehead against mine and closing her eyes. "Just tell me what else you remember." 

I take a deep breath and open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out. If we could just go inside, I could show her everything. We could make it all real. 

Almost a full minute passes and finally I feel her sigh and her shoulder slump. What? I have no idea what's going on with her all of a sudden. I open my mouth to ask her what's wrong and her finger presses against my lips, so so gently. I give it a gentle kiss and she replaces her finger with her lips, returning the kiss just as softly. She takes a deep breath and pulls back, smiling sadly at me. 

"Night, B," she says, then takes a step back and starts to walk down the hall to her own door. 

"Faith?" I call after her but she doesn't look back. 

Her hands are in her pockets and her head is down, and I go over everything that just happened to try to figure out what the fuck just happened. She reaches the end of the hall and disappears around the bend and I'm left alone in the hallway, tears filling my eyes but not falling. 

What did I do wrong? What did I get wrong? We were doing so well, and hey – she's the one who started the kissing! And she's the one who suggested privacy! We were being honest for a change and she ran away? A tear rolls down my cheek and I swipe it away in frustration. More try to join it and I let them fall as I try to figure out what happened and where I went wrong. 

I don't know how long I've been standing here – at least five minutes - but the sound of the elevator catches my attention and I look up to see Kennedy and Willow stumble out into the hallway. They're giggling and laughing . . . until they see my face. They come over in a rush, Willow asking me what's wrong and why I'm crying while Kennedy just watches silently. 

"Buffy, what is it? What happened?" 

"I don't know," I answer truthfully. 

"Where's Faith?" Kennedy asks. 

I shrug and sigh. "In her room, I guess. I don't know. She didn't say anything when she left." 

"Oh," Willow says nervously. "You two looked like you were getting along fine when you were dancing . . ." 

"We were!" I pretty much shout back, throwing my arms up in frustration. "We were good, and there was kissing, and touching, and I thought we were getting somewhere, and then . . . she left!" 

Willow takes a step closer to me, looking like she's trying to keep my voice from reaching all of the surrounding rooms. "Come on, let's go inside and talk," she says. She shoots Kennedy a look and Kennedy nods, then walks off down the hall toward Faith's room. 

Willow takes my room key from my hand and opens up the door and then leads me over to the bed. She sits down and pulls me down next to her so that we're facing each other. When she sees that my tears are falling again, she reaches over to the nightstand and grabs the box of tissues, then places them on my lap. 

"What happened, Buff?" 

I grab a few tissues and blot my eyes and cheeks, then shrug. "I guess it's just not meant to be. Not here, anyhow." 

"Buffy?" she asks, clearly confused. 

I take a deep breath and sigh. What can it hurt if she knows it all? 

"Faith and I . . . in the other dimension . . . in here," I tap my head, "we were . . ." 

"Together?" she fills in for me. 

"We were in love," I say quietly, staring down at my lap. "It didn't start out that way. We fought, and then we were friends, and then we . . . there was sex. But it grew into something more. We were inseparable." 

"I've noticed how close you guys are since you woke up," she comments. 

"Yeah. Wishful thinking, I guess," I reply. "It was love, and it was amazing, even in the middle of hell. She died and it felt like someone ripped my soul out. Then I woke up and realized that she didn't remember – or didn't want to remember – and it felt like my soul was getting ripped out all over again." 

"Oh Buffy," she says, her bottom lip coming out in sympathy. 

"I still love her, Wills," I say sadly. "But it's just not the same here. I don't know why she was able to tell me that she loves me in the other dimension but she can't say it here." 

I shake my head sadly and for once in her life, I can tell that Willow doesn't know what to say. 

"Maybe she does." 

"Then why did she walk away?" When Willow can't answer, I continue. "I know you still hadn't figured it out the other day, but have you made any progress on getting the other dimension out of my head since then? Maybe if it's gone, everything will go back to normal." 

I can tell by the look on her face that she doesn't have good news. 

"I've consulted with the coven and with more mages than I can recall but they all say it can't be done. I'm sorry, Buffy. I think it's in there to stay." 

And instantly, my tears start falling again and my shoulders are wracked with sobs. 

"How do I do this, Will? How do I make it through this reality without her when the other dimension is still in my head, along with the memory of loving her and her loving me back?" 

Willow pulls me into her arms and holds me tight, resting her chin on the top of my head. 

"I think the first step is to figure out what you want, Buffy. What you really, truly want. And the next step is to make this reality even better than the other one." 

"How do I do that?" I ask her, looking up into her green eyes. 

She looks down at me nervously, then glances over at the door before looking back at me. 

"You have to be brave, Buffy. You've always been the bravest person I know when it comes to monsters and all kinds of baddies that go grr in the night. Maybe it's time that you use that courage for yourself, and for Faith. I know she's used hers for you at least once before." 

"What?" I ask her, confused. 

She glances over at the door again and when she sees we're still alone, she puts her hands on my upper arms and pushes me back enough so that she can look right into my eyes. 

"I told you before how the magic was made to work with one of the original slayers. You fell unconscious first and the magic activated, trapping you and the other slayers in it; but not Faith. It was made for you or her, but not both. She fought until the very end and carried you out of the hellmouth and to the bus. She was at your bedside for a week. She didn't eat, she didn't sleep; she was sick with worry, Buffy, and when Amanda woke up and said that you were there, confirming what other girls had described, well . . . she wouldn't sit idly by any longer no matter how much we tried to convince her to wait." 

"What are you saying, Will?" I ask, my brow furrowed. 

Willow takes a deep breath and continues. "She told me to figure it all out and to figure it out fast. Said she was gonna get you out, again. Next thing I know, she's running out of the room with a determined look on her face . . . and the key to Giles' rental car hidden in her pocket. Buffy, she . . . she knew how to get into the other dimension. She knew she had to become unconscious and then she'd be able to slip in. Or at least she hoped so, I think. We didn't know her plan, but . . . she got in Giles' car and drove it right into the side of a building at a stupidly high speed. We didn't know what happened until Andrew saw her being wheeled into the emergency room on a stretcher. Her plan worked: she got in. She just couldn't do anything to help once she got there because she became a part of the magical world created in your mind. She didn't remember an accident, or the mission she was on. But she was there with you, and I think that's all she really wanted in the first place." 

I don't know when but at some point during her speech, my hand came up and covered my mouth. I can feel my breath warm and trembly against it and my tears are still falling down my cheeks. 

"Will . . ." I begin but find I can't say anything else. 

Willow smiles softly and takes my other hand in hers. "Go and tell her how you feel, Buffy. Be brave for her, like she was for you." 

And I can't even think of anything more to say to her. When I stand up Willow does too and I pull her into a tight hug. 

"Thank you," I whisper. 

"Go and get your girl, Buffy," she says and when I pull back, I can see that she's giving me a big smile. I smile back through my tears and start to head for the door just as it opens from the other side. My heart jumps into my throat when I think I might find Faith on the other side but instead I see Kennedy standing there, frowning and holding onto a folded sheet of paper. 

"Ken?" 

"She wasn't there," she says. "But this was, and it has your name on it." 

She hands me the paper and sure enough, I see my name scribbled on one side of it. I open it up and see Faith's handwriting over a few lines. 

_"B –_

_You asked me what I remembered. I told you some stuff. Here's the rest: I remember wanting to cry with relief when I saw you walk into the arena that day. I remember fighting with you. I remember being your friend. I remember kissing you and touching you. I remember holding you and promising that we'd always be together and we'd ride off into the sunset together._

_I remember telling you I love you._

_I remember it all, except for one thing: I don't remember you ever telling me that you loved me back. Pretty sure I never will, either._

_And I can't pretend I'm cool with that anymore, cos I'm not. Maybe one day we'll see eye to eye on it all. Until then . . ._

_\--Faith."_

My eyes go wide and I read over the letter at least two more times before looking up at Kennedy. 

"Where did she go?" I ask anxiously. 

"Don't have a clue. She ain't in her room though, and when I jimmied the lock I saw that her side of the room was cleared out." 

I look back at Willow and her eyes are wide too but she shakes it off and quickly closes the space between us. 

"It's not too late, Buffy. Go." When I don't budge, she actually pushes me out into the hallway, just narrowly avoiding sending me crashing into Kennedy. "Buffy, she's a slayer; she walks fast. Go, now!" 

And I'm suddenly running down the hall faster than my strappy sandals want to take me. The elevator is still on our floor and I jump in and bang on the button for the lobby again and again. The metal doors slide shut and I pace back and forth as the elevator slowly descends. 

I finally get it now. I know what Faith was waiting for. She told me that she loved me and I never had a chance to say it back. She's been waiting to hear it this whole time; Faith put her heart on the line for me and was waiting for me to return the gesture. 

God, I'm such an idiot! 

The doors slide open and I look out through them, then take a deep breath. This is it. This is my last chance. 

****(Suggested Music: Your Guardian Angel by the Red Jumpsuit Apparatus)****

I run out into the lobby and look from left to right, scanning for any sign of Faith. It's completely deserted with the exception of the front desk clerk and I run over to the desk, startling her when I all but crash into it. 

"May I help you?" she asks with a friendly smile. 

"Yeah. Yes. Hi. Uh, I think a friend of mine may have come through here a few minutes ago and I'm wondering if maybe you saw her and can point me in her general direction." 

"Brunette, leather pants, about my height?" she asks. 

"Yes! Yes, that's her. Can you tell me which way she went?" 

"She walked toward the rear exit just a few minutes ago." 

"Thank you!" I shout back to her as I'm already half way across the lobby and heading toward the back exit. I skid down the long corridor and burst through the heavy glass doors hard enough to send them flying back as far as they'll open. I stop just outside them and look around, hoping to see some sign or find a clue that will lead me to her. 

Needless to say, I'm more than surprised when I look toward the short concrete wall along the outside of the garden and see her perched on it with her feet dangling just off the ground, staring up at the starry sky. 

"Faith!" I shout and run toward her. 

She looks just as surprised to see me as I do to see her sitting there and I'm pretty sure I almost give her a concussion when I crash into her and wrap my arms around her back. 

"Buffy . . ." she begins but I cut her off with a kiss so long and deep that it leaves us both breathless. She hasn't moved her hands from the ledge of the wall and her eyes are still slightly guarded when I pull back to look into them. "What . . ." she begins again but I cut her off. 

"I remember," I say, breathing hard. My heart is racing in my chest and I feel like it's about to burst at any second. "Everything. I remember everything. Faith . . ." 

I stop for a moment and unwrap my arms from her so that I can hold her face in both of my hands. I stroke my thumbs over her lips and then look up into her eyes. They're not guarded anymore; she's looking at me so openly, so honestly, and with so much love that it takes my breath away. I smile and tears start to form in my eyes again. 

"B?" 

"I know what you did. You put yourself in a coma so that you could help me. You . . . you were there for me, Faith. My guardian angel. You brought me back to life and . . . I love you. God, I love you Faith. So much." 

A silence falls between us and my heart is beating so hard and fast that I can hear it in my ears. Please, don't let it be too late. Please. 

A small smile creeps up on her lips and then I feel her hands on my sides, pulling me to her. We hold each other in the tightest hug known to man and she hops down from the wall, bringing us that much closer together. My tears start falling again and I rest my cheek on her shoulder, so content to just be in her arms again. To know that this is real and not something that will be forever hidden away in some part of my mind. 

"I didn't care what happened to me," she says. "I would have died to know that you'd be alright. Nearly did. Guess it doesn't matter now though. We're both here, right?" 

"Yeah. We are." 

"I love you, Buffy," she says finally. 

And suddenly, all of the pieces fall into place. My heart clenches in my chest and I know that I'm right where I'm supposed to be with who I'm supposed to be with. If the other dimension still exists in my head, I'll never know it for sure. I don't want to spend another second of my life anywhere than right here with Faith. 

We pull back just enough so that our lips can meet in a series of soft, quick kisses. Each one is sweeter than the one before it and I know that I'm going to spend forever getting to know each and every one of her kisses. 

"I can't believe you were gonna leave," I say as we pull back from the kiss. 

"And I can't believe you finally got the balls to stop me," she replies, giving my butt a hard slap. 

"All I had to do was open my eyes and realize that my life wouldn't be the same without you in it. Any world without you in it would be as bad as the world we were trapped in." 

"It wasn't all that bad," she says, laughing when my eyes widen at what she said. "What?" 

"Demon apocalypse, Faith. Human slaves. No shampoo or conditioner!" 

"Yeah, but it was worth it. Two years of hell and I walk away from it with you in my arms. Me? Not gonna complain about it." 

I chuckle and plant a few more kisses on her lips, then lean down to grab her bag and sling it over my shoulder. She wraps her arm around my waist and we slowly start to walk back toward the hotel door. 

"I guess you're right. No complaining from me either." 

"Yunno what I am gonna miss though?" she asks. 

"What's that?" 

"Bobb-o. Coolest demon ever." 

I laugh softly. "What would you do if I tell you that Bobb-o is actually a three-hundred pound orderly from the hospital that used to like to paint my nails while I slept?" 

"For real?" She asks. When I laugh and nod, she gets all excited. "I've gotta go meet him!" 

"You can. We can go together." 

"You gettin' all clingy on me now?" 

"Like saran wrap." 

"Ya better." 

She pulls the door open and we walk in together. I don't know where we're going from here or if our life together will work out as perfect as it feels right now, but none of that matters. I've got amazing friends who have been there for me through the most trying two months of my life, toenails that are still painted the prettiest pink I've ever seen, the cutest new clothes that a girl could ask for, and the girl I love, groping me as we ride up to our floor in the elevator. 

I'm pretty sure that it doesn't get much better than this. 

It took losing everything I had and everything I ever knew to find everything I never knew I always wanted. You better believe that I'm never gonna let it go now that I have it. 

**The End**


End file.
